Living as Lenore
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back from the dead…and she did. Unfortunately, it happened to be in a body 340 years in the past.
1. Prologue

Prologue

A/N:

Title: Living as Lenore  
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)  
Fandom/Genre: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer/  
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Eli, Dean, Sam, Scoobies  
Rating: T  
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back from the dead…and she did. Unfortunately, it happened to be in a body 340 years in the past.  
This story will explore Lenore's life as a Prophetess, as a vampire, and finally as a woman struggling to figure out who – or rather, what – she is as her life turns full circle when she meets the Scoobies again.  
Pairing(s): Undecided at this time…  
Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 'Seeing Red', SPN S2E3 'Bloodlust'. There are also references to characters from S4 & S5.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did then fewer people would have died in each of those shows :)

_Notes:_ I was inspired after watching Supernatural Season 2 Episode 3 'Bloodlust' where Amber Benson (aka Tara from BTVS!) plays a vampire named Lenore. Yay! Crossover fun galore with this commonality! ;)

* * *

_Sunnydale, California  
May 7, 2002_

One moment Willow's shirt was splattered with a red liquid. The next, Tara felt her world darkening into shadow. Time did not exist; all she knew was that she was in the presence of a long, blackened tunnel that led to a speck of pulsing light. Instinct urged her to head down the well-traveled road but her love for Willow kept her glancing over her shoulder. Tara was not sure where she was, but she could feel Willow calling for her. Pain laced her voice and sobs interrupted her words.

_"Come on, come on. Tara…Tara…Tara! Come back to this world! I command it!"_

The pulsing light disappeared like a snuffed candle and Tara felt herself encased in darkness. Something clutched her middle and she felt herself plunging downward…

_

* * *

_

_Liberton, Scotland  
May 7, 1672_

Hot sweat dripped down Margaret McLeod's temple as panted from the exertion of childbirth. Her newly delivered babe's cries pierced the air and Margaret almost wept with joy – the birth had been painful, complicated, and she had feared that her babe may not have made it. Heavy-lidded eyes struggled to focus on her midwife Elspeth as she presented a tightly wrapped baby to Margaret.

"Tis a girl, as I predicted," Elspeth Blackie declared with a crooked smile. It was not often talked about openly, but Margaret knew that her cousin was a practicer of witchcraft; several months ago she had happily informed her that Margaret would finally receive the daughter that she had always wanted. After all, few women could be happy with only four boys and no daughters.

A sob, one that had been held inside her until the very moment, broke out as Elspeth laid the child - _her_ child – in Margaret's arms. She gasped at the sight of her babe opening up her eyes and instantly Margaret felt the connection of motherhood with this new life in her arms.

"What'll you'll be callin' her?"

Margaret gave her daughter a gentle smile. "Angus and I decided on Eleanor…but we'll call her Lenore, like me mum."


	2. The Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End

**A/N:**

Spoilers: This chapter will use a 'Supernatural' character from Season 5 (although not in their known persona at the moment) and this story, overall, will reference two more characters from Season 4 & 5 of SPN (Sorry, forgot to mention that in chappie 1).

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I know Tara isn't a popular character to read about so I didn't expect much feedback. Therefore, thank you! :)

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
October 31, 1688_

Eleanor 'Lenore' Amelia McLeod lived a rather normal life for a girl of sixteen years of age. She lived with her mother and father, Margaret and Angus McLeod above her father's tailor shop in the small downtown area of the village of Liberton, just several miles from the bustling city of Edinburgh. She had four older brothers, Fergus, Edgar, Ennis, and Blane, that were, respectively, eleven, nine, eight, and six years older than her. Fergus, as the eldest son, had apprenticed with their father and now worked in the shop downstairs alongside with him. Edgar and Ennis were shoemakers in Edinburgh and Blane had traveled to England for work long ago. Father often muttered under his breath how his youngest son was also the most foolish and likely drunken in a ditch in seedy London somewhere, but none of them knew how Blane truly fared because he had not sent a letter in five years.

Each morning Lenore cleaned her father's shop and spent her afternoons working in her second cousin's herb garden. Her cousin, Elspeth, was like a second mother to her and once she had noticed Lenore's keen skill in coaxing even the most troublesome plants to grow, she had quickly enlisted Lenore to work for her. Her mother was quite wary in the beginning and had ordered her not to get involved in witchcraft like Elspeth, but it wasn't quite like that for her. Lenore simply wanted to spend time in Elspeth's garden because it brought her a great deal of happiness – to her there was nothing better than working in the dirt and seeing life being created in front of her very eyes.

…Of course, she did enjoy being in the presence of her cousin's magic as well.

"Lenore!" her mother called from the front room where she was laying out _samhnag_ on the window sills. "Have ya finished carving that turnip? We need at least one more _samhnag_ for the back windows."

She waved her completed candle lantern in the air. "Yes, Ma. Can I go to Cousin Elspeth's now? She wanted me to harvest some items for tonight."

Her mother turned away from the window and focused her calculating blue eyes on Lenore. "Darlin', you know I love my cousin like she was my sister, but I don't know if I want you to be at her house today, of all days – as I've told you already."

Lenore rolled eyes. "Ma, you know I don't have any interest in that." Which was a lie. Lenore had secretly spied on her cousin doing spells with her coven many times. There was just something about the feeling of the magic…it called to her. If her mother hadn't raised her as a staunch Christian then Lenore would have succumbed long ago; only fear of her wrathful Lord prevented her from doing so.

However, the temptation had been getting greater as of late and was becoming quite difficult to ignore.

There was a moment of silence as her mother observed her closely. Finally, once she had passed inspection, her mother sighed. "Alright Lenore, I believe you. Just do me a favor and stay in the garden today. I don't want you getting caught up in any of Elspeth's _Samhain_ rituals."

Since _Samhain_ was the day when the veil between the living world and the otherworld was thinnest, it was common knowledge that the holiday was the premier day to perform magical ceremonies.

"Of course, Mother," Lenore promised sweetly as she gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek and skipped out the door.

Little did her mother know that Lenore had her fingers crossed behind her back.

* * *

_Samhain_ was an important day in their community. On a positive note, today they celebrated the harvest and gave thanks to God. However, lore said that _Samhain_ was an ancient holiday that also marked the thinning of the veil and the power of the otherworld, so many precautions had to be taken. Candle lanterns were placed in windows to ward off evil spirits, people wore masks to copy the evil spirits in order to hide from them or placate them (depending on the spirit), and at night a great bonfire would be lit and the entire village would participate.

However, what Lenore was most interested in this year was witnessing one of her cousin's spells. Previously, she had been unable to spy on the _Samhain_ ceremonies or acts of divination, but this year she was determined to watch. She was powerfully drawn to the magic that she felt in Elspeth's home and it reminded her of something that she couldn't quite put her finger on…something that whispered of a past long forgotten but Lenore could not decipher that idea. Like smoke, it would yield nothing when she attempted to grab onto it.

As she approached the back door of Elspeth's home, she heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. The smell of something sour tinted the air and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Curiosity led her to place her back against the wall and her ear near the window in order to discern what was going on.

"Cousin, I've been studying with you for years and I think that I am more than capable of handling this summoning."

Lenore's eyes widened in shock. Her brother Fergus was an affable man but she had always thought he had secrets about him. However, it wasn't until this moment that she realized that his secrets must have to do with witchcraft.

"A bloody crossroads demon, are you mad? The only folks who need to be summoning one of those are fools blinded by greed and gluttony," Elspeth's terse voice vibrated with anger.

"Dammit Elspeth! Do not worry about me – I can handle myself. But I need the spell. It's important."

There was a moment of silence and Lenore was afraid that maybe they knew she was eavesdropping.

"My answer is _no_ Fergus. Now go make yourself useful and gather the herbs for tonight. I don't know if Maggie will be allowin' Lenore to stop by today."

"Fine," Fergus answered harshly as Lenore scrambled past the weeping willow tree and began harvesting the rosemary.

The door banged open loudly as Lenore nonchalantly filled up a cloth bag with rosemary. She glanced up and smiled at her brother, although inwardly she was wondering _why_ on god's green earth was her brother trying to summon a _demon_, of all things.

"Lenore! I didn't think you were coming by," Fergus grinned at her as he walked down the porch and came to hug her. "How is my favorite baby sister doing today?"

She rolled her eyes and mock-glared at him. "I'm your _only_ baby sister, Fergus."

Fergus nodded thoughtfully. "I know. You're lucky there's no competition," he teased with a slight smirk as he ruffled her dark blond hair. "Who knows how you'd fare otherwise?"

She punched his arm lightly. "You're mean," she stated matter-of-factly as she stuck her tongue out at him.

Her twenty-seven year old brother raised his eyebrows at her juvenile behavior. "Goodness, Len, with that sort of lady-like behavior it is a wonder you're not married yet," he sarcastically observed.

Glaring at him, she folded her arms against her chest. "What have I said about calling me 'Len'? It sounds bloody awful." Fergus had been calling that for as long as she could remember and she found it annoying. However, Fergus was the only one allowed to call her that since he was her favorite brother. Although he was much older than her, since he worked at the tailor shop she had still spent her entire childhood with him. Plus, Fergus was the only one in her family besides Elspeth who didn't treat her like an incompetent child. Not to mention, his sarcastic humor never failed to amuse her.

Fergus snatched her hand and playfully smacked it. "Language, _Len_," he scolded with a quirked lips as she let out a mighty huff of frustration.

"Anyways," he added, "what are you doing here? I thought mother was saying that she wasn't going to let you over on _Samhain_."

"She wasn't," Lenore grinned. "But I gave her many reasonable explanations since last night as to why I should visit Elspeth and she finally agreed."

"I am not surprised," Fergus smiled fondly. "You are quite the saleswoman, you know."

"I know," she smiled happily. Between her quality education that Elspeth had given her – her widowed cousin was firm in the belief that it was unwise to fully depend upon your husband's intellect – and selling tailoring services for her father in the town square, Lenore was quite good with words.

"Well," he said as he glanced over the garden, "since you're here I'll be leaving so I can take care of a few things. I'll see you tonight at the bonfire, okay?"

"Can't you stay?" Lenore asked with her perfected pout; one that had suited her well in her role as the youngest child. "I don't want to do this all by myself." Truth of the matter was, she loved working in the garden by herself. However, she was hoping if she spent more time with Fergus maybe she could figure out what his conversation with Elspeth was about.

Of course, she also enjoyed spending time with him – there weren't enough opportunities for that as far as she was concerned. With few village youth her age Lenore could get greatly lonely sometimes.

Fergus took a long look at her and sighed heavily, even as his eyes shone with amusement. "Oh fine. I bloody hate it when you look at me like that, you know."

She gave him a wide smile and pecked him lightly on the cheek. "Oh, I know!" she sing-songed happily.

* * *

The day passed quickly and unfortunately Lenore was never able to tactfully figure out a way to ask her brother why he wanted to summon a demon – a 'crossroads demon' to be specific. Instead they just discussed his wife Molly and his nine-year old son Gavin; apparently Gavin had been as troublesome as always lately and Fergus was noticeably annoyed with the child. Lenore thought her brother was an interesting man – he was always warm and loving with her but she had noted on many occasions his inability to show the same consideration to others. Idly, she wondered if it had anything to do with his interest in witchcraft; except that Elspeth was one of the kindest souls in the entire village.

Eventually Fergus departed and Lenore was left canning and shelving herbs in Elspeth's cellar. By the time she had finished, her cousin was entertaining two townswomen who were asking for their fortunes to be told. Lenore had seen this type of activity before – sometimes Elspeth dropped egg whites into a glass of water to see how many children the woman would have or peel an apple to predict the first letter of the name of their future husband.

Once Elspeth was finished she glanced quickly to the side and spied Lenore watching from the kitchen doorway. "Child, you do realize that while you have attempted many times to move like a ghost in this house, I _do_ know you're there, right?" she said with an amused smile.

Lenore bit her lip and felt her cheeks coloring. Oh god, had Elspeth known how Lenore secretly watched her all these years? "W-well, I-I d-didn't m-mean t-to l-listen," she stuttered; an unfortunate tick that always seemed to arise when she was very nervous.

Elspeth sighed, closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Yes you did, lass. You know better than to lie to me."

Her voice was edged with disappointment and something else that Lenore could not decipher. It stung her and she became suddenly afraid that she was in trouble and would never be allowed over again. Without her work on Elspeth's garden Lenore would be stuck with dreadfully boring tasks at her father's shop and being under her father's eye more often would remind him that it was time for her to marry – something that she did not desire at all. No one in the village interested her and when Lenore dreamed of her future mate she always saw the bare back of a faceless being with shoulder-length red hair and porcelain skin – there was a part of Lenore that knew she was meant for that person and she refused to settle for anyone less.

"Are you going to tell my mother?" Lenore asked in a small voice; her eyes focused on a fading rug floor that sat under her feet.

Elspeth's footsteps sounded towards her but Lenore was too distressed to look up. There was a soft sigh and then Elspeth cradled Lenore's chin in her hands and forced her to look up. "Lass, I won't be tellin' your mother. If she knew I know she would never allow me to see you again – 'tis only the fact that, after her own mum died, that she lived with me growing up that allows her to let me be close to you. I know she disapproves of my choices and would be horrified to know that you share my interests."

Lenore shifted uncomfortably under her cousin's heavy stare. "I know it is wrong for me to be so interested, but it calls to me – for as long as I remember. I-I feel like magic feels familiar to me, even though I don't know why."

Placing her hand on Lenore's shoulder, her cousin gave her a gentle squeeze. "Did your mother ever tell you that I knew she would give birth to a daughter?" she asked softly, in an almost testing, cautious way.

"No," Lenore shook her head, puzzled by the question. "How did you know?"

"I did a spell to discover the sex of Maggie's babe. You know, your mother wanted a daughter so fiercely that I just had to ask the spirits to give me some sort of news. During a card reading I discovered the sex of my cousin's babe…but also much more," she finished in a hushed whisper.

Lenore's back stiffened. The spirits had told her cousin something about her? "Was the reading positive?" she asked in a quiet voice as her mind rushed to process the statement. At the same time, her gut clenched at the realization that she should not even give the mystical reading any of her time. Their priest notably said that God forbade any sort of magical mischief and that to do so was to walk down a path into darkness.

Elspeth gnawed her lip and her forehead scrunched in deep contemplation. "I shouldn't be tellin' you this…but I also feel as if it is important for you to know."

Lenore stayed silent and waited for her wavering cousin to make a decision. Finally, she grabbed Lenore's hand and let her to the cellar. "Where are we going?" Lenore asked in bewilderment.

"You always wanted to know my secrets, lass. I suppose 'tis about time for you to learn them," Elspeth replied as she placed an open palm on the cellar wall, a stone that was seventh high on the western wall.

"_Domus_," she spoke in power-drenched voice and the stone began to shine with an inner white light, soft at first but soon it expanded to a blinding light and with a rush of air the wall slid aside to reveal a large underground room. Tapestries depicting druids, gods, and goddesses covered each inch of the wall, a plush black rug showcasing silver, shining stars laid unfurled on the floor, and seven candelabras flickered to life on the walls.

Yet, those were not the first things that Lenore noticed about the room. What she first felt was a rush of primal power that soaked into her lungs with her first breath and inflamed her veins. It engulfed her like the smallest flame onto a jar of oil and she felt like she was going to explode. A sharp resounding cry cracked through her lips and reverberated within the walls of this mystical room. She fell to her knees shaking and for a moment she glimpsed that red-haired lover – only this time the person turned to face Lenore and she realized it was a woman, a beautiful woman with green eyes that sparkled brighter than Dog Star, sweet lips that simultaneously seemed capable of whispering sweet nothings and speaking words of power, and a lithe frame that promised it was stronger than it appeared.

"Lenore! Lenore!" Elspeth shouted frantically as she shook her violently. The image of the red-haired woman faded and Lenore realized that her throat ached with a burning pain (did she really scream that much?) and that she was lying backside on the push rug.

"Elspeth, I'm fine," she reassured her in a scratchy voice that sounded like the polar opposite of her statement. Slowly she sat up and squeezed her cousin's hand. "I'm fine," she repeated, her voice slightly stronger this time around.

"Dear god, child! What happened? This room has never had such an effect on a person before." Elspeth's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and her mouth was taut with worry.

"I'm not sure…the power in this room overwhelmed me," she answered in a thoughtful voice. However, she did not mention the red-haired woman. After all, Lenore knew that witchcraft was forbidden by the church but even worse was to feel such deep attraction for a person of the same sex!

"You feel the power of this room?" her cousin asked curiously as she helped Lenore's limp body sit in a dark oak chair that sat at a wide circular table.

"Yes," Lenore nodded, her voice still a bit shaky. The surprise affect of the room had worn off but she could still feel its power pulsing in the air; effectively causing her arms to break out into goosepimples.

Elspeth cradled her cheek in her hand and inspected her thoroughly. "I always knew that you had magic within you, lass, but I never realized how much until now."

"What do you mean?" Lenore asked, feeling suddenly afraid. Yes, she had always been drawn to magic and curious about it but after experiencing its power she was unsure if using it was a good idea. This power, while it was enticing, scared her at the same time.

"Prayhaps I should be startin' at the beginning," Elspeth mused. "As I said, before you were born I did a reading with the cards – these cards, actually," she added as she got up and retrieved an old tarot card deck from a cabinet. Shuffling the cards, she found the one she was looking for and laid it down face-up.

"This was the first one – the Queen of Swords. I knew that Maggie would be havin' a girl then, but this card demonstrates quite a bit more. With her sword raised in her hands, this woman is a person of great power, yet her crown of butterflies indicates her sharp intellect and freedom of thought – this is a woman who knows when to use her weapons and when to refrain. The white clouds behind her indicate her clarity of thought and keen knowledge of her own mind, yet the dark clouds hovering in the corner threaten to disrupt all of that."

Lenore blinked; she had no idea one card could tell so much. Yet, at the same time she did not consider herself a person of great power and certainly no one as great as this grave-looking queen. "I don't understand what that means, Elspeth."

"You are young now, but your experience just now indicates that your spirit is deeply attuned to the mystical forces, lass. I would think in time, and with practice, you could become quite powerful indeed," her cousin sagely informed her.

"But why? Why me?" Lenore asked in sudden stomach-squeaming rush of nervousness. "I don't want to be powerful." She knew that power led to evil, without proper moderation and observation. In fact, the village minister was a powerful man in the community and, while no one _ever_ discussed it, it was known that he took advantage of people for his own purposes.

"I cannot answer that question lass; it is hidden even from my keen eye."

"Is there more?"

Her cousin nodded and shuffled through the cards and laid a terrifying image over the Queen of Swords. "This card, the Devil, covers you."

"Covers me?" Lenore squeaked out at the terrifying prospect. If tarot cards involved the Devil, then perhaps her mother was right about magic being a dark art!

Elspeth nodded grimly. "It represents the obstacles that you will face; the temptation to do evil. See how the two naked human-looking demons are chained to his throne? You will someday face a demonic force that will seek to enslave you in a similar manner."

Her voice was soft as she told Lenore this, but it in no way softened the blow. Lenore's fingers tightly grasped the fabric of her dress and she felt a coldness seep into her heart as her chest tightened. "What else?" she asked, almost going mad from a desire to learn more.

Giving her a pitying look, Elspeth laid a new card to the right of the Devil and the Queen of Swords. "The next card – which indicates your distant past – that I drew for you sixteen years ago was Death." Off her frightened look, Elspeth explained further. "However, it is not as simple as indicating death itself. This card represents a number of things, but in this case I believe it means rebirth, which is represented by Death's black banner of the mystic rose that he carries."

Elspeth smiled at her fondly and took her hand. "When I delivered ye from your mother's womb, I looked into your eyes and saw an old soul looking out. Many believe in the act of reincarnation, lass, and I've always believed that this isn't your first life. Perhaps you carried your magical abilities from a previous life."

Eyes widened in fright, Lenore shook her head violently. This was becoming too real, too fast. "No, I don't believe it," she vehemently declared. "That isn't possible. Everyone knows that after death your destination is either heaven or hell."

Elspeth released her hand and shrugged casually. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Death is a mystery to all, even your precious Minister O'Neil." The scorn was evident in her voice at the mention of the man; Lenore knew that her cousin only attended Sunday services because it was expected of her, but she had no respect for the duplicitous man.

Lenore stilled and took a deep breath as her mind tried to understand this all. "You said the cards told you a great deal – was there anything more?" she finally asked.

Elspeth laid a new card to the left of the Devil and stated that the card represented her future. On it was an angel christened with luxurious blond hair that was blowing a golden trumpet. Below the angel were grey-skinned deceased-looking humans standing in crypts with their arms raised up while a massive wave threatened to topple over them.

"This is the Judgment card, which features the archangel Gabriel, the Messenger of God. This card indicates that a heavy judgment lies in your future. It is often used as a reminder that Judgment Day may arrive at any moment and that one should live their life as if it may end tomorrow. However – and I think since this card represents your future and its known that all beings will receive judgment at the end of their life in the future – this card can also be interpreted to herald the coming of individuals from your past."

"Like who?" Lenore asked curiously in a hushed whisper.

Elspeth simply shrugged. "My interpretation, after considering this reading for the last sixteen years, is that people from your past life may meet you in this one."

"But how? Would they be reborn like I was?" Lenore inquired, thinking of the mysterious red-haired woman as she did so.

"I can only assume so, unless they are still alive," her cousin stated thoughtfully.

Then she laid out a card underneath the Devil card, and the Queen of Swords that the Devil card covered. This card depicted yet another angel who stood with one foot on land and the other foot in a pool of water, and he was shown pouring water from one goblet into another. "This card depicts your strengths and assets in the battle against your obstacle, and is named Temperance. Within the tarot deck, this card stands between Death and the Devil and is thought to guide the souls of the dead to judgment – however, since the Devil is your obstacle I am inclined to believe that this represents a being who will help you stand against your demon. In addition, this card tells me that your strengths will lie in your ability to be in two worlds at once, as indicated by the angel's footing, and that you will posses the ability to bring balance to the world."

Lenore let out a choked laugh. "Elspeth, this is madness! How can you tell so much from one little card? Not to mention, this all sounds unbelievable!"

In a swift movement Elspeth captured Lenore's jaw with one hand and held her firmly as she caught her eyes. Dark brown eyes bore into hers and a thrill went down Lenore's back as she recognized the power that her cousin held within her. "My child, I have contemplated this reading for sixteen years. On several occasions I have even done different readings for you, but the cards have always stayed the same. I know this may be hard to believe, but you were the one to request the truth. There is great power within you, lass, and I've recognized it since the beginning. After all, it was my motivation for getting you to work in my gardens – so that I could educate you in reading, writing, and someday, magic."

Elspeth released her then and Lenore gaped at her in surprise, suddenly seeing her in a new light. The forty-year old woman always appeared rather mousy with dark brown hair, mud-colored eyes, and a slouched appearance with a lopsided smile that only lent to the off-hand observation that the woman's features were asymmetrical. But now Lenore saw sheer magical energy pulsing within her and an aura appeared over her that was lit with brilliant shades of pinks, blues, and greens. Her hair seemed fuller and her eyes shone with intellect and beauty. All at once Lenore was frightened by her cousin's impressive presence, yet also frozen in sheer admiration.

"A-all a-along…all along you wanted me t-to spend time w-with you because of your c-card reading?" she stuttered in awe.

Elspeth smiled and her aura dimmed, revealing the mousy-looking woman that Lenore had grown up knowing. "Lenore, my darling, I love you as if you were my own daughter," she said in a painfully tight voice. Long ago, during travel to Edinburgh, Elspeth's husband and twin daughters were murdered in a robbery and she knew that her cousin Margaret's children were the closest thing to children that Elspeth had left.

Elspeth continued, her voice less pained at this point. "I wanted you here so I could watch over you, to see if my reading held any truth. As time went on I noticed how your aura brightened when the scent of magic was in the air or when you were 'secretly' watching me do spellwork. It became clear to me that I had to ensure you were educated – I knew that your father never saw your education as important since he thought you needed to work on your womanly duties. However, education is very important in the art of magic – one must be able to read and write in order to do spells and understand them."

Letting out a shaky sigh, Lenore gave her cousin a long look. "I have many questions, but this one is first – what do all these cards mean? What is my ultimate fortune?"

With a sigh, Elspeth laid down one more card above the Devil card. It featured a lightning-struck tower cast in flames with two people leaping fearfully off of it. Lenore gasped at the image and instinctively knew that it was a card of crisis. "Dear god, Elspeth, what does this mean?"

Biting her lip and frowning, Elspeth gestured to the card. "The Tower is a card of chaos and change. It represents revelation and ruin, either one or the other, or both. The lightning indicates a sign from God, a powerful message of truth descending from the heavens. Flames represent aggressive change and ruin – for nothing can live after a blazing fire. Finally, the two falling figures stand for conflicting thoughts and actions that ultimately lead to an eruption."

Lenore gulped. "So you are saying that the only thing in my future is the presence of failure?"

"_No_," Elspeth stated strongly. "The cards give us a glimpse, but the future is ever-changing. You are young, my dear, and I suspect that is why the readings have never given you different cards before. The time of decision-making has not yet arrived; however, once it does you are able to take this reading into account."

"Into account?" Lenore repeated critically. "By Elspeth, by this reading I am supposedly a reborn individual capable of great power who will face against a demon, meet people from my past life, be assisted by some unknown stranger, all to have my life result in ruin, mostly likely from this demon. How am I supposed to face that? That is, if this is even accurate?" she added skeptically.

Elspeth let out a heavy sigh as she listened to the frustrated and scared teenager's words. "The future is ever-changing, lass. Nothing lies in stone. All of this may come to pass, only some of it, or none of it at all. The purpose of the cards is to give one insight; the rest is up to you."

Lenore buried her face in her hands. "I regret telling you that I wanted to know the truth," she stated forlornly, her voice muffled against her skin.

A comforting hand rubbed her shoulders. "I know, my darling. Knowledge is often an unwanted gift."

"So what does this mean, now?" Lenore finally asked after a long period of contemplative silence. "Am I to study magic with you and Fergus now?"

Her cousin's eyes flashed – was that anger? Or fear? – and she quickly shook her head. "Do _not_ do magic with your brother, Lenore. You may study with me, if you decide to go down this path, but never with him."

Lenore's eyes widened in surprise. "Why not with Fergus? I know he practices magic with you…um, I overheard you two this morning," she admitted guiltily.

Elspeth's eyes narrowed and she took in a deep breath of air. "Did you hear what he requested to learn from me?" she asked cautiously, her piercing eyes scanning Lenore's expression.

"Y-yes…H-he wanted to summon a crossroads demon," Lenore stated. "But, but he didn't really mean it, did he? Fergus isn't bad, is he?" she asked in a small voice, like a little girl who was afraid of her false illusions shattering into shards of piercing truth.

Elspeth's jaw tightened and she looked away from Lenore's pained expression. "Fergus has been studying with me for several years, but as of late his interest has turned to the darker nature of our craft – one that I do not participate in – and he worries me. His interests grow increasingly selfish and I am afraid of where it may lead. That is why, my dear, you must not practice with him – he will be a bad influence on your instruction. In fact, it would be better if he, nor anyone else, knows that you will be practicing with me. Agreed?"

Lenore desperately wanted to ask more questions about Fergus but by judging Elspeth's tone, she knew that was not allowable at the moment. Instead, she just nodded. "Agreed, cousin."

Her decision was not made lightly – she feared greatly that by learning witchcraft she was going against her Lord and Savior, but after her card reading the desire to _learn_ what this all meant was too strong to ignore.

"Good," Elspeth declared as she stood up and gently kissed Lenore's forehead. "You shall start your studies today; _Samhain_ is an excellent day to begin learning the craft."

As Elspeth pulled a thick, leather-bound book off a bookcase shelf Lenore realized that her life had dramatically changed today – and she wasn't sure if it was for better or worse.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:**

Reviews are love and candy canes.

Special note: Each tarot card that Lenore received represents significant plot points that are likely easy to guess based on the nature of this story, but be on the look-out for their revelations! ;)

_References:_  
***.org/wiki/Samhain – Where I got all my fun info on _Samhain_, aka the Gaelic holiday that is our present day Halloween. They used turnips instead of pumpkins for jack-o-lanterns, fyi (the _samhnag_)

***'Dog Star' – Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky

***My tarot card descriptions come from the Rider-Waite deck. This deck did not arrive until the late 1800s/early 1900s so it would not have really been used by Elspeth; however it is the best choice for me to use in this story.

***Tarot card divinations taken from , wikipedia, and my own interpretations from the Rider-Waite deck that I use.


	3. There's Wedding then Betrayal

I've Read this Tale, there's Wedding then Betrayal

**A/N:**

So it's been interesting writing this story and getting into Tara/Lenore's head. Now, since Lenore had a completely different upbringing than Tara, her actions will be different. _(Lenore was the youngest child who was often doted on and had a strong support network growing up, unlike Tara who lost her mother at the age of seventeen, had grown up in a patriarchal society that made her feel worthless and she seemed to have no one, but her mother, who showed her love.)_ When the time comes, though, her personalities will merge.  
…I just wanted to clarify in case any readers are worried because they do not see stereotypical 'Tara' in this fic (essentially, Lenore's personality is one that I think Tara would have had if she had grown up in a supportive home, more or less).

Also, credit goes to AllenPitt for feeding me floppy eared plot bunnies; leading me to use a BTVS character in this chapter that absolutely despises such hippity-hoppity creatures :) Oh! And a major thanks to him for issuing a rec!

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
March 22, 1694_

Lenore pressed her father's newly sewn clothes with lackluster movements, her thoughts far and away. Standing, bent over the table in the tailor shop's back room, she was fully alone with her thoughts. Much had happened over the last week and she felt feverish with the direction that her life was heading in.

"A shilling for your thoughts?" came an amused voice from the doorway. So surprised by Fergus' silent arrival, she gasped and dropped her iron; wincing as it clattered to the floor and spilled boiling hot water.

"Fergus! Goodness, you move like a cat," she exclaimed in annoyance as she picked her iron back up and continued pressing the grey button-up shirt.

"'Tis not my fault if you are so engrossed in your thoughts that you cannot notice my arrival," he smirked as he walked to stand across the table from her.

She said nothing and just continued ironing.

"Hey," he said softly as he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "What is it, sister? You look as if Death is staring you in the face."

Lenore fought to stay strong and to not reveal her turmoil. "I'm fine," she stated, but her voice cracked slightly at the end.

Fergus frowned and went around the table to take the steaming iron from her hands and grab each of her hands with his own. "Lenore, you've been acting distant all week, ever since dinner with Minister O'Neil. I suspect I know what it is, but please tell me. I hate to see you suffer."

She laughed harshly at her thirty-two year old brother. "Fergus, you never care about the suffering of others. You beat your son for the smallest of infractions and I would not be surprised if your dear Molly suffers from similar abuse."

In the last five years Lenore had become skilled in her craft, although she was still only an apprentice to her cousin Elspeth. However, she was keenly in tune with auras and the one surrounding her brother spoke of wickedness, and had for the past six months. There was no doubt in her mind that her brother had managed to find a way to summon his demon – for what she did not know – because there would be no other reason why his aura would be awash in a blood-red color of evil.

Since then their estrangement had begun, although there was a part of her that still desperately loved her brother. He was still her most beloved sibling, regardless of his actions – it pained her that she loved her brother unconditionally; it hurt too much to see him travel down such a dark road and not be able to do anything about it.

However, she had never been brave enough to say anything to him…until now. Stress and worry had taken hold of her emotions and loosened her tongue in the process.

Fergus' expression darkened and his hands gripped hers so tightly that she gasped in pain. "How dare you judge me, sister," he stated in a low, dark tone. "You have no idea of the stresses of my life. That child of mine is supposed to be my legacy and he is an idiot not deserving of my name. I suspect sometimes that he is not even mine – that Molly whored herself out at some point fourteen years ago, like a common tart." Anger bled into his voice, yet his tone was tight and controlled.

That was Fergus – he lived off controlling others and maneuvering them into positions that benefited him, unfortunately.

"Let go, you're hurting me," she pleaded as she tugged, with fruitless results, away from him.

Fergus blinked and she saw his eyes flash with painful surprise. Immediately he let go of her and held up his hands in a show of surrender. "Dear god…Lenore, I'm sorry."

She bit her lip and looked away – it was too painful to look at him right now. "Are you? After all, why should I be any different from anyone else that you supposedly love?"

"Dammit, Len," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Stop being so difficult. You're my sister, I love you, and I would never intentionally hurt you. I came here to ask how you were doing, _not_ to get lectured about things you don't understand."

She looked at him again and felt her heart clench painfully at the sight of his forlorn expression. In his way, he truly did love her. She just wished it was enough to turn him away from his dark path. He still did not know that she was a practicing witch, besides which, he no longer practiced magic with Elspeth. However, Elspeth had discovered that it was no longer possible to save Fergus from the darkness that cast his aura in shadows of evil and death – the cards had told her that his soul had already been claimed.

Perhaps if Lenore had been feeling stronger she would have confronted her brother further about his dark choices but at the moment her energy was spent. So much effort had gone into struggling to figure a way out of her situation that was just too tired to fight with Fergus.

"Fine then, brother," she stated with a resigned sigh. Looking up, she saw the tension leave his shoulders. "We shan't speak of it any further today."

Fergus regarded her for a moment and nodded – that discussion about his morals and behavior was effectively over. "Now, would you like to tell me about why you have been acting like the walking dead this week?"

Her lips quirked at his description of her. "I don't want to be married to Minister O'Neil," she informed him after deciding to cut to the meat of the matter.

"I figured as much," Fergus shrugged. "However, you are far past the age of marriage – if it hadn't been for the lack of men in the village and Elspeth's effective techniques at helping you to avoid suitors, you would have been married long ago."

"I am twenty-one years old – that is not old!" she muttered irritably. Well, actually it was and she knew it, but there was a part of her that thought that was wrong – that women shouldn't be forced to be sold into marriage like traded cattle. The world thought women to be weak, but she knew different. Sometimes she dreamed of a world where women were strong and powerful – they were magistrates, doctors, and even leaders of armies and countries.

A silly idea, she knew. Something like that would never happen. Men ruled over women; that was the way it had always been and always would be.

However, that did not mean that she had to like it!

"Lenore," Fergus rolled his eyes. "Minister O'Neil is only ten years older then you – he is not so terrible. Besides, you will become a minister's wife! That is a position of prominence and it will benefit the entire family for you to hold it!" Her brother's eyes gleamed with interest; she had no doubts in her mind that he was already thinking of how her position could benefit him.

"But I do not _want_ to be a minister's wife," she admitted. Truth be told, she was unsure if it was right for her to hold such a position of spiritual significance in the community. Her views on religion and God conflicted greatly. On one hand, she practiced magic and prayed to various deities, like Hecate, to aid her. Yet on the other she attended church weekly and still loved her Lord, who she thought of as the true God. Of course, how these differing perspectives were able to exist simultaneously in her mind was quite confusing and Lenore currently had no idea what was right or wrong when it came to religion.

"In addition," she added in an annoyed tone, "I do _not_ want to marry that man. He is wicked. He takes church funds to live a lavish lifestyle and I have heard many accounts of him seducing young girls to bed and explaining it away as him needing to test their morality. They all fail, of course," she snorted.

Fergus started to say something and Lenore interrupted. "Not to mention, he's fatter than a sow in the heat of summer!"

Fergus chuckled at her remark; no one could deny that Minister Connor O'Neil was the largest man they had ever met.

"True, he is rather unattractive. God knows I could never imagine having sex with him," he shuddered with a smirk in her direction.

"Fergus!" she exclaimed in shock, in part because her brother had mentioned sex and in part because he made a joke about having sex with a man.

"What?" he asked with wide-eyed innocence. "It is true, after all."

"Do you imagine having sex with many men?" she teased in a wry voice, a part of her taking refuge in such a moment of normalcy with her favorite brother – one where she didn't have to think about him being in league with darkness or a cruel person to others. In this moment he was simply her eldest, loving brother.

"Occasionally," he shrugged casually as his eyes practically glowed with mischief.

Lenore choked on air. "Fergus!" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper. "That is such a sinful thing to say!"

Fergus began laughing and shaking his head. "So says you."

Instantly she was on guard. "What do you mean?"

One critical eyebrow rose high on his forehead. "You left your sketchbook out once, Len, and I decided to take a peek."

"Fergus!" she gasped in a scandalized tone. "How could you?"

"Len," he sighed heavily as he gave her an exasperated look. "It is not a big deal. I was just curious as to what you were always drawing during your alone moments in Cousin Elspeth's herb garden as you sat underneath her willow tree."

Lenore shifted uncomfortably at the realization that her brother had managed to discover a secret that even Elspeth did not know.

"Who is she, by the way? The woman with the green eyes and blazing locks of hair?" he asked curiously. "Is she a lover of yours? I assume so since several sketches were of her nude form. After all, that would make sense why you are not interested in any men here."

"I-I am interested in men," she protested. Well, that was mostly true. Some had caught her eye but no one made her feel like the woman that she often dreamed about. At this point, Lenore could only surmise that this woman was from her past – the past that Elspeth's tarot card reading had hinted at. "A-and I've actually never met the woman, I just dream about her."

Fergus just hummed in response as his eyes searched hers for the truth. "How often do you dream of her?"

"Often enough," she told him truthfully.

"That's interesting," he mused in a distracted manner.

"Yes, well, please don't tell anyone. I don't want them to think me nutters, after all," she asked nervously while she toyed with the sleeve of her dress.

Fergus sighed heavily again. "Len, I just told you that I would never intentionally hurt you. Do not fret, I shan't tell a soul."

Lenore let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. Now, if there was only a way you could get me out of my wedding, then I would be set," she joked weakly.

Fondly mussing up her hair, he gave her a sad smile. "I wish I could, Len. I wish I could."

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
June 13, 1699_

God was punishing her. That was the only explanation.

Five years into her marriage to Reverend Connor O'Neil and three children (Alexander, Elizabeth, and Dawn, ages four, three, and one) later, Lenore's heart was dark with grief.

Connor was as horrible as she had thought prior to their marriage and Lenore regretted that neither she nor Elspeth could do anything to get her out of her marriage. Father had insisted that she get married and with no other available suitors, the minister was her last resort. Of course, she was sure that Father enjoyed the surplus of business that he received from being the father-in-law to the well-thought-of village minister as well.

With so much of her time dedicated to wifely duties as a minister's wife and mother to three young children, she had little time to spend practicing her craft. Furthermore, Connor greatly disliked Elspeth, likely due to the (true) rumors that floated around about her cousin's mystical pastimes, and he forbade Lenore from spending too much time there.

Unable to spend much time connecting to her magic, Lenore often felt lost in the world. However, her new immersion into the work of the church gave her new perspectives on God and she wondered if this was His grand plan for her – that by forcing her to marry this horrible man she would suffer punishment for her sinful hobby and become a better Christian in the meantime.

The theory had a solid foundation and her realization of such an idea did stop her from practicing her craft as often. Lately she only practiced divination or did spells perhaps twice a month.

However, the lack of doing so always left an hollow place in her heart.

Of course, the children were a great source of her distraction as well. Lenore had never thought about what it would be like to be a mother and she was surprised at just how much it sparked her passion. Of course, she supposed she wasn't terribly surprised. Every now and again she dreamed of comforting a teenage girl with wide blue eyes and light brown waist-length hair (who, of all the strangest things, wore trousers like a man). Even now, as she watched her daughter Elizabeth play with a rag doll, she wondered if perhaps she had dreamed of one of her daughters in the future. Both had blue eyes, although she supposed they may darken as they age – the eyes of babes often did so over time.

"Mama! Mama! Unka Fergie is here!" Alexander gleefully declared as he raced awakwardly from the window to where she sat cradling Dawn in her beloved rocking chair.

Careful not to jostle Dawn from her peaceful sleep, Lenore gently laid her youngest daughter in her crib and went to the door. Fergus had said he would be dropping off some food that Molly had cooked for Elizabeth's third birthday party tonight and she supposed it was almost time for the small family gathering.

Opening the door, she greeted her brother with a hug. Several years ago she had a vision of Fergus engulfed flames from the pits of hell and it was then that she got over her anger at him for toying with the black arts and instead took pity on him. Never had he revealed the true story to either her or Elspeth but they had assumed, thanks to tarot card and aura readings, that Fergus had sold his soul to a crossroads demon and was thus a damned soul. That shocking revelation of his fate and then 'seeing' his soul being tortured made her realize that Lenore needed to make each moment with him on earth count – she knew that she could not change his fate but at least she could provide him with good memories to cling on to in the afterlife.

Of course, he had never known why her attitude around him had changed, he had simply accepted it and moved on. Fergus was rather unflappable in that way.

"Afternoon, brother. Is that haggis I smell?" she asked with interest.

"Molly's mother's personal recipe," Fergus smiled charmingly as he held up a blackened pot. "Shall I place it in the over to stay warm?

"Yes, please," she answered as she shut the door.

"Unka Fergie! Unka Fergie!" Alexander whooped as he toddled over towards his favorite uncle. Since Fergus was still Lenore's favorite brother (Edgar and Ennis only visited monthly at most and a letter three years ago informed them of Blane's death from a poorly outmatched tavern fight) and Connor was an only child, that made Fergus the favorite uncle of her children.

"Fug, fug!" Elizabeth giggled wildly as she meandered towards the waiting arms of her uncle after he set the haggis away. She had taken to calling Uncle Fergus 'Fug' sometime back and wouldn't call him anything else, no matter how much he begged her to at least call him Fergie – which was a name that he also greatly disliked.

Lenore thought that was quite appropriate since he had been calling her by that dreadful nickname 'Len' for so many years.

"Hullo there, you little monsters," Fergus grinned as he pick up a child in each arm and spun in a circle, much to their screaming pleasure. It always amazed Lenore that Fergus could be so gentle with her children. After the poor way that he had raised Gavin (both father and son actually _despised_ the other, which always led to uncomfortable family moments), she had just assumed that Fergus hated children. However, he was wonderful with her brood and she wondered if maybe Fergus did hate Gavin because he didn't consider him his son due to a suspicion that Molly had been unfaithful, as he had once stated years ago.

Oh well. Fergus could be a right bastard to most folks when he wanted to, but as long as he kept her children happy she wouldn't worry about it. Life was short after all.

Or was it? As she went about setting up for the party while Fergus entertained Alexander and Elizabeth, her mind wandered to the notion that she had a past life (or perhaps more than one, for all she knew). If that was true, then perhaps life wasn't as short as they thought. Rather, it was like a neverending circle of creation and death.

Bollocks, this was frustrating. Eleven years of not only practicing magic but also praying to God, and she still could not see past the veil and into her past life. Twice Elspeth had performed a tarot card reading for her and each time Lenore had been dealt the same cards. Clearly nothing of significance had changed in her life that would result in a decision that would affect her much debated future and she was becoming tired of the suspense. One would think that at the age of twenty-seven she would be able to figure this out. As of now, all she had were dreams of the red-haired woman and occassionally other people, but the images were ghostly and momentary – never did they talk to her or do anything of significance. All she ever saw was herself hugging the teenage girl, being treated like a servant from a father-type character, walking in a cemetary with a bubbly blond, and engagng in, um, _unseemly_ activities with the redhead.

Unforunately, none of those visions had given her an epiphany.

She was almost at the point of wondering if Elspeth's readings were wrong and that there was nothing abnormal about her.

…Well, that was not quite true. Although she hid it from everyone but Elspeth and three other coven members, her skills as a witch had drastically improved. Things like levitation, aura-reading, divination, and many difficult spells came easy to her now.

Lenore sighed. Unfortunately her witchcraft was not helpful when it came to dealing with her dreaful husband who was dull when he wasn't being cruel, which was not much of a trade-off. Elspeth had suggested cursing him but Lenore forbade it. Although he was wicked (she had come to verify that he did indeed steal from the church rather than use the money for the chuch ministries _and_ she suspected that he had slept with several village girls and women since they had wedded), he was still a man of God and it was not within their rights to punish him – that was for the Lord to do.

She just hoped he did so sooner rather than later.

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
January 1, 1700_

Bitter winds pierced through their skin like daggers coated in ice overseeing the village was the best place to perform the spell and Lenore would do anything she had to in order to see it succeed.  
_  
"Brigid, Goddess of Fire,  
We seek you now when all is dire._

Embers of hope are all we face;  
The hope that you will lend your grace.

We beesech you to help Dawn heal,  
From Death that looks upon her with zeal.

Brigid, hear our plea,  
Give Dawn your Blessed Be."

Lenore, Elspeth, and the other members of their coven – Shannon Montgomery, Ellsie Buchanan, and Kensie Boyd – finished their chant around the fire and Lenore reached into her bad to throw out the offering of sand taken from the northernmost Scottish beach. Once the offering was made, the spell would be complete and hopefully Dawn would be healed before death overtook her. She had been ill for the past two weeks and few doubted that the baby would live another week.

"I knew it!" a furious male voice echoed over the hill. Each of the women's eyes looked up to see Lenore's husband of almost six years, Reverend Connor O'Neil, stride towards them furiously with three of his most trusted goons (otherwise known as the church elders.

Lenore frantically tried to fling the sand into the fire but James Sheppard threw a wool blanket over the fire, thus destroying their last chance to save her daughter from certain death. "NO!" she cried out in horror as her own father, Angus McLeod grabbed her arms roughly.

"I warned you to avoid Elspeth and look what has happened," Connor spat in rage; spittle flew into the air due to the force of his words. "I had suspected Elspeth of witchcraft and then today Ellsie's husband confessed that he overheard that his wife 'and four other witches' would be here today doing a spell – and it is true!"

Ellsie's jaw dropped in shock and her jade eyes shone with tears. "William told you?" she gasped. "He betrayed me?"

"The only betrayal is the one committed by you against your Lord and Savior," Connor cooly replied. "Besides which…James may have encouraged him," he smirked.

"Why, Eleanor?" her father asked her sadly. "Why did you have to follow down this road to hell and engage in the black arts? Why?'

"These arts are not black, Father! I am not that kind of witch. In fact, this spell was to save Dawn!" she pleaded with him, noting out of the corner of her eye that the other women were being rounded up and that her husband was approaching her.

"You were making a compact with the Devil to _save_ Dawn?" Connor asked scornfully. His black hair was tied back but the fierce wind threatened to undo it. His iceicy blue eyes surveyed her coldly and she only saw contempt in them – it was then she knew that her husband would not show her even the smallest bit of kindness, no matter if she was the mother of his child or not. For the past few months he had been inspired by the witchhunts in neighboring villages and was admant that he would discover the witches who dared to practice in 'his' town. Now that he had succeeded in his task, she only saw a fiery death in her future.

Which meant that her children would grow up without her. Instead, everything of the world they would learn from their indifferent and distant father who spewed fire and brimstone during church services but spoke coldly at the dinner table.

Not to mention, without the proper spells it was inevitable that little Dawnie would succumb quickly to the infection that lived in her lungs.

"No, not the Devil!" Lenore then refuted angrily; ablazed with anger that he would even _suggest_ that she would consort with a being of hell. "Don't you understand? Without me finishing this spell our daughter shall surely die!"

A meaty hand landed across her face and Lenore felt her jaw crack under the weight of it. "You despicable whore! It is because of _your_ dealings with Satan that our daughter is dying! God is punishing you for your foolish decisions!" he declared pompously and angrily as his index finger was jabbed in her direction.

"If anyone has betrayed God, it is you. Thief of the ministry and adulterer!" she screamed – for the first time in her life uttering those words to her husband. Fear of retaliation had prevented her beforehand but now she was furious with his hypocrisy.

Another meaty hand was swung at her, but this time he hit her lower abdomen. The air rushed out of her lungs and she fell, choking, to the ground. Pain blossomed over the area and with a rush of grave insight Lenore knew that this injury had just killed her unborn child.

Worst of it, she had just told Connor last week that her midwife, Elspeth, had informed her that she was two months pregnant.

Sorrow soaked into her very bones and her limbs felt weighted with lead. A sob erupted from between her split lips and she turned glassy, grief-stricken eyes towards her husband. A brief smirk played over his lips and a cold satisfaction entered his eyes – he knew what he had done.

And he was proud of it.

The realization of what extreme wickedness actually lay within her husband sent a flood of sharp pains stabbing within her chest. She contemplated cursing him with something dark, but a booted foot kicked against her head and soon Lenore was contemplating nothing at all.

* * *

A/N:

So I finished National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) this morning at 5am. I am just pleased as punch *grins* Nothing like last minute pressure! ;)

Also, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. I wasn't sure if anyone would be interested in this fic, but after writing 16,000 words for it in 36 hours I have to say it's my new pet favorite :D

Also, am I just a crazed fangirl or is the idea of Crowley playing with little kids just the funnest image? heehee.

_References_  
***The title of this chapter comes from a line that Anya sings during the musical episode. I found it very fitting for this chapter and the next *grins*

***"A shilling for your thoughts?" - historically at this time Scotland used the currency of England, which included the 'shilling. Hence, my bastardization of the saying 'a penny for your thoughts'

***.org/wiki/Haggis- Haggis has been cooked since the 1400s

***.org/wiki/Bollocks—'Bollocks' has been used since the 1300s, did you know? Hmm, I didn't (lol). However, as you may have noted, I am a bit of a history geek and am trying my hardest to ensure that I am being historically accurate (mmmkay, minus things like magical witches and demons and vampires, etc ;)

***Brigid is a Celtic triple-goddess and is the goddess of healing, fire, childbirth, etc

***There is some historical foundation for witchcraft trials in Scotland at this time. Between 1560 – 1707 perhaps 4,000 women were murdered (.org/wiki/North_Berwick_witch_trials) due to the Scottish Witchcraft Act of 1563 (.org/wiki/Witchcraft_Act_1563#Scottish_Witchcraft_Act_1563). In fact, in 1661-62 there was a gret witch hunt in Liberton and a captured witch was named Elspeth Blackie – this was my reason for Lenore's location and where the idea of her second cousin came up.


	4. A Demon and a Pagan God Walk Into a Chur

**A Demon and a Pagan God Walk Into a Church…**

Oops, I mentioned that a BTVS person would be in the last chapter, but due to length I had to cut it and she's actually in this character…sorry, when I write so much so quickly I get confused :0

Disclaimer: I have a contemporary writing style and trying to write 1600s Scottish dialogue ain't easy, luvs. So I hope you don't mind my missteps when they occur. I proof each chapter but *shrugs*. Also, in this chapter my two supernaturally inclined folks speak much like they do in the series, but that was more so for a humorous affect and to keep them in character. Plus, one of them can time travel so I'm sure he knows all the slang of each and every decade until the end of time…. ;)

_

* * *

_

_Liberton, Scotland  
January 1, 1700_

She awoke that afternoon in the bowels of the church, a dark and dank place that smelled sour by nature and currently smelled like five frightened women. Each of them were shackled against the wall and forced to sit in their own waste products. Each of them bore signs of abuse and each of them wore a forlorn expression. Even Elspeth, the strongest of them all, appeared at a loss.

"Cousin, what is going on?" Lenore asked frantically upon waking. "What have they decided to do with us?"

"Connor has decided to burn the five of us at the stake in the morning," Shannon answered when Elspeth didn't. "The whole village must know about it now – including our children." Shannon had two teenage sons and her despondent voice indicated that she was thinking of them now.

"B-but, surely someone must be agains this?" Lenore asked in a pleading voice. "Our families at least?"

Ellsie let out a choking sob. "I overheard Connor say that our families are too fearful to stop him, lest he declare them witches as well."

Oh god…Lenore was never going to see her children again. This was it. She wondered if this was what her mother had felt before she died during Lenore's seventeenth year.

Wait…her mother was still alive. Where had that thought come from?

Lenore sighed. Regardless, it did not matter at the moment. She focused her magic to snap open the iron chains that bound her, but nothing occurred. "My magic!" she shouted in both surprise and fear. "I cannot access it!"

Kensie, silent until now, nodded. "I saw Connor surrounding us with crystals; they are laying on the floor. I believe he is using them to suppress our powers."

"And thus he has sealed our doom," Elspeth finally sighed. "As long as these crystals surround us, we are helpless."

Lenore just squeezed her eyes shut and tried to tell herself that this was just another one of her lucid dreams – dreams that felt so real but were just the byproduct of her overactive imagination.

But it, unfortunately, wasn't a dream.

Hours passed and eventually an unknown woman with dark brown hair that hung in loose waves around her face walked in with a large tray of food. "Greetings, prisoners!" she called out cheerfully. Surprised to see another face - _especially_ an unknown face, Lenore inspected her carefully. She had beautiful unblemished skin, wore typical servant apparel, but noticeably wore a grant emerald pendent encased in gold – something that was quite atypical for a servant.

"Who are you?" Elspeth asked sharply.

"Oh, just your friendly neighborhood prisoner feeder." Off their bewildered looks the woman happily chatted on. "I was sent from Edinburgh to help with the church sacrifice, er, execution, or whatever you call it. Anyways, I'm here to look after the prisoners." She held up a loaf of bread with a cheery smile. "Hungry, anyone?"

Lenore's mouth salivated at the idea of food. She had fasted, as did the others, twenty-four hours prior to the spell and was now starving for nourishment. "Yes, please," she rasped; her voice was dry from lack of water.

The woman clucked her tongue lightly as she delivered food to each woman. "Honestly, I just cannot believe that your husbands are letting you get murdered because you're witches! You know, back in the day you would have been worshipped and admired. Such a shame."

"Yes…" Lenore trailed off in confusion. She was unsure why a woman sent to help lead them to their deaths, likely by the main church in the city, would feel sympathy for them!

Actually, what Lenore felt was strangest of all was how this woman felt familiar to her. She couldn't remember ever meeting her but there was something about the way she spoke that niggled at the back of her brain. Most oddly of all, when Lenore looked at her the image of floppy-eared bunnies appeared in her mind!

"Yes, I cannot believe that William betrayed what he had heard. No matter how much that evil man pressured him, I still cannot believe that he betrayed me!" Ellsie sobbed in a torn voice.

"Men," the woman scoffed. "Don't you just wish he got what was coming to him?" she inquired with gleaming eyes.

"Oh, I surely do," Ellsie said darkly. "I wish—"

"Ellise, stop!" Lenore suddenly commanded, and all eyes turned to her in confusion. "This is a vengeance demon - Anyanka! Make no wishes around her."

Lenore had no idea why she knew that this woman was a vengeance demon – honestly she wasn't even completely sure what one was – but the moment Ellsie said "I wish" terror dripped down the base of her neck and she had a flash of insight. Whatever she knew from her past life had pushed its way past her mental barrier, and Lenore knew who this woman was and that she made people's wishes come true – but in the most awful way imaginable.

Anyanka sighed heavily and placed her hands on her hips as her right foot tapped incessantly in annoyance. "Geez lady, I'm trying to help you girls out here. These men are going to kill you – don't you want to wish them dead?"

"It is not our way to consort with a demon – no matter what the villagers may say," Elspeth stated proudly; supporting Lenore's sudden statement. "You may as well leave now, demon.

The woman just rolled her eyes. "First off, 'demon' is quite demeaning you know. I do have a name, after all. I am Anyanka, Patron Saint of Scorned Women. But you see, the new century just started and I need to get a jump-start on my quota in order to maintain my position as the top sales agent of the vengeance demons," she explained in a determined voice.

"A 'quota'?" Shannon asked in confusion.

"You know. I have to help so many scorned women," Anyanka snapped in annoyance, clearly bitter that they were not jumping at her offer of help. "Now, this is the slow season – during the heat of summer is when business is booming – and you girls will probably be my last opportunity to get some business in for next few weeks.

"So, all you have to do is make a wish against the men and I'll grant it, no matter how big or how small. And don't forget – this is a limited time deal!" Anyaka added gleefully as greedily rubbed her hands together.

"Because," Anyanka grinned, "otherwise in twelve hours you'll be dead," she (unnecessarily) explained.

"No," was Elspeth's stern reply as she drew herself to sit up.

Anyanka frowned in frustration. "So you would rather die then? And let these men live, even though they may kill more women – innocent women? Children even? You do realize that some villages are declaring children to be witches and either drowning them or burning them.

Lenore could see her cousin's decision begin to waver like a finely constructed mirage exposed to the harshness of blunt truth. Elspeth never wanted to do dark magic or consort with dark creatures, but there really were no options at the moment.

"I think we should!" Ellsie declared. "After all, Anyanka is right – what if more people die because we did nothing but accept our deaths? Connor is evil and must pay – no offense to ye, Lenore," she added almost in an after-thought.

She shrugged. "My husband has always been a bastard, ladies – 'tis no secret," she stated sadly. "I only regret that his wickedness has spread like a disease to infect your lives as well as mine."

Anyanka gazed at her with interest and knelt in front of Lenore. Her proximity was unnerving – and also strangely satisfying. Her familiarity made Lenore feel, for the first time doing something other than magic, truly comfortable in her own skin. She could also see herself being…friends with this creature.

Yet, why would Lenore have befriended a vengeance demon in her past life? Perhaps, god forbid, _she_ had been a demon as well?

"Wow, you hate your husband don't you? Let me guess – he smacks you around? Has a barbed tongue that rips through your emotions? You know, those religious types are usually the worst," she stated sympathetically.

Lenore lightly brushed her now swollen cheek with one hand and laid another upon her stomach. Blood had pooled between her legs from the miscarriage and her lower abdomen throbbed with pain. Anyanka's statements were truer than Lenore would have preferred. The last five, almost six, years had been difficult indeed. Connor had only wanted her because she was the youngest girl in the village who was of marrying age and his deceased wife had not produced any heirs, so he needed children. He cared nothing about her personally and, by god, if she did not think it was sinful to curse a man of God she likely would have long ago.

In fact, in the beginning she almost had…but when she found out that she was pregnant with Alexander she was afraid to rear a child on her own. Then came Elizabeth and Dawn, and suddenly the same beings who were the brightest stars in her universe were also the chains that kept her shackled to Connor O'Neil.

"He has never hit me before today, but alas today he struck me cruelly…my babe died in the womb from his attack," Lenore admitted woefully.

"What?" all four of her coven members exclaimed at once; even Anyanka looked particularly vengeful at the admittance.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Elspeth snarled in anger - none was directed towards her, however. Lenore knew that it was all meant for Connor.

Lenore shrugged sadly. "My friends, our death approaches us and I did not want to lay any further burdens upon you."

"Well this changes everything," Elspeth stated in a hard voice. "Connor must pay. Anyanka, I wish to take you up on your offer."

Lenore winced at her decision, but knew it was for the best. She could not leave her children alone with that man.

The demon jumped up like a merry child being awarded a present from under the Christmas tree and clapped her hands. "Oh goody!" Anyanka exclaimed. "What is your wish?"

"I— " Elspeth began to say but dim, yet frantic, screams traveled down into their holding area from outside. "What on earth is going on?" she questioned out loud.

Anyanka cocked her ear and grimaced. "Oh dammit, if someone got to them before me I'm going to feed their genitals to the Loch Ness Monster," she grumbled under her breath.

Glancing at the witches she smiled nervously. "You all just keep thinking vengeful thoughts and I'll be back real soon!"

With a pop, she disappeared. The screaming, however, did not.

"Good god, what is going on out there?" Kenzie mused softly.

Lenore exchanged a look with her cousin. "You don't think that Fergus is still practicing, do you?"

Elspeth bit her lip. "I did not think so, but perhaps he is working some magic to free us…"

Part of Lenore hoped that was true. She desperately wanted to return home to her children and get away from this malevolent place.

With a loud pop, Anyanka reappeared. "Well, looks like all the men who were involved in planning your deaths are dead," she grumbled like a disappointed child.

"All of them?" Ellsie gasped.

"Sure. Your husband, Lenore's husband and father, James, and John; the whole batch. Apparently Lucifer came and congratulated them in front of the entire village assembly at successfully capturing the innocent women for the sacrifice tomorrow. Of course, the rest of the villagers assembled a mob and proceeded to burn each of the men alive."

"T-the D-devil was h-here?" Lenore gasped alongside her fellow coven members.

"Pssh," Anyanka waved her hand casually away. "Everyone who's anyone knows that Lucifer got locked into the Cage by his big bro long ago, so it wasn't him." She looked thoughtful for a moment and then continued. "Actually, I couldn't sense a demon anywhere…although I did sense a pagan god," she sniffed in annoyance as her eyes lit with a revelation.

"LOKI! YOU GET YOUR TRICKSTER ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING BARBARIAN MESSING WITH MY DECLARED VICTIMS!" Anya suddenly screamed out as she stamped her foot with each syllable.

"Loki?" Lenore repeated as she looked wildly at the others. "The Norse trickster god?" Any witch worth her salt knew of each of the major gods and goddesses and Loki was well-known for his malicious, though sometimes just, pranks.

A man shimmered into the room and gave Anyanka a lopsided grin. His eyes twinkled with amusement and he exuded a tremendous amount of power. Lenore noted that when he arrived into the room he accidentally crushed one of the crystals barring their powers, and she felt her magic stretch alongside her spirit again. With a mere thought, she quickly snapped each woman's chains in case this fight between the pagan god and demon dissolved into dangerous territory.

"Anyanka, baby, you don't call, you don't write," he trailed off in a hurt tone as his lower lip puckered out. "I was thinking you didn't like me anymore."

In a flash of movement Anyanka yanked Loki's bottom lip and pulled him roughly forward with it. "I _don't_ like you anymore!" she declared vehemently. "You're always stealing my victims, darn it! For the love of D'Hoffryn, can't you find your own stupid victims?"

He smiled – or, well, smiled as best he could with his lower lip clasped between Anyanka's thumb and forefinger. "Aud, you know tha' I ohn-ly do tha' 'ee-cuz I vant ta' shee you,' he explained as best as he could.

Anyanka – or was that Aud? – let go of Loki and folded her arms defiantly against her chest. "Loki, you've become a real pain in my ass," she huffed in exasperation.

Sighing, Loki walked behind Anyanka and stared wistfully at her backside. "Am I? Well that is good, because I do miss your ass," he sighed forlornly, but his eyes were lit with amusement.

Letting out a grunt of annoyance she smacked his arm. "Hey! Stop oogling the goods, mister. What do I look like? A common London tart? Or worse, Cleopatra?"

"Trust me, Cleo has nothing on you," Loki stated confidently as he gifted her with a sly wink.

The words fell from Lenore's lips before she even had a moment to think about them. "A pagan god and a demon…coupling? Isn't that wrong?" Immediately, she mentally smacked herself as the two powerful beings turned towards her. It was just, the Trickster God had such a brilliant white aura that she could not imagine him with an evil demon.

"Hey kid," Loki gave her a menacing look and Lenore cowered. "Watch your mouth when you talk about Anyanka. She was human once and isn't a true demon—"

"—Loki! Stop saying that! I'm the demony-est!"

"—Anyways, she's some inter-dimensional hyrbid and thus not any worse than a pagan god, for example. So stop being all judgey – after all, that is my job," he smiled wickedly as he tapped her lightly on top of her head.

Lenore felt her adrenaline rush at his calculating look;; every part of her screamed that she should run away from this powerful being that she had, unfortunately, aggravated. "I-I'm sorry. I-I w-was j-just surprised s-since your a-aura is just so p-pu—" but Lenore was never able to say "pure" because her scratchy voice cracked and suddenly her voice was gone.

"What did you do to her?" Elspeth demanded to know.

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. "Humans should only speak when spoken to," he stated with a smirk, but Lenore saw panic in his eyes – panic that he quickly hid.

"Fix her now!" Elspeth demanded.

"Hey!" he called out in a warning tone. "Don't go all Mebd on me now, Elspeth! Your cousin will have her voice back, as soon as we are out of hearing distance from her scathingly annoying voice.

"We?" Anyanka asked in skeptical tone as she tossed her wavy locks haughtily over her shoulder.

Suddenly Loki was there holding Anyanka tightly in his arms – and of all things the demon began _blushing_! "Come now, Aud. Let me make tonight up for you. After all, I helped you with that troll transfiguration spell so long ago – I'm not such a bad guy, am I?" he asked hopefully with innocent puppy-dog eyes.

Anyanka huffed and rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched slightly upwards. "Damn you, Loki. If you weren't so damn good in bed I'd have killed you by now."

"Sure thing, my sweet honey bear," he grinned knowingly. Then with a snap of his fingers they were both gone.

Leaving five bewildered witches left in their wake.

* * *

A/N:

Loki, aka The Trickster, appears in both S2 & S3 of Supernatural. He also appears in two episodes of S5, but those appearances reveals something about his character that is kinda spoiler-y, so I won't mention it here. However, later on in this story Lenore will figure out his real identity, so fyi on future spoilage!

Please let me know what you thought :)

Thanks for reading!


	5. A ManTart of Cleopatra Standards

**A Man-Tart of Cleopatra Standards**

**A/N:**

Warning: Spoilers for SPN S6 "Weekend at Bobby's" where we learn some background info on Crowley. Also, allusions to Loki's identity that were revealed in S5 (but only allusions at this point).

Also, I'm on a writing binge, as you can tell. Just trying to see how many words I can write before NaNoWriMo ends ;D

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
January 2, 1700_

One day had passed since Lenore's life had been thrown into upheaval and she was struggling at home to care for the sickly Dawn – who was becoming increasingly pale – as well as her other two children, on top of still suffering from her painful miscarriage. The spell to save a dying babe could only be done under certain circumstances and preparation, so they would not be able to attempt the spell again until next week…and Lenore feared that would not be soon enough for her daughter.

At least her husband was dead, along with the others. Their fellow villagers had 'rescued' them quickly after Loki and Anyanka disappeared, falling all over themselves in apology for what had almost occurred to the women. Apparently Anyanka's description yesterday had been correct. During the village meeting to discuss the witch hunt a great man with spiraling goat's horns and hoofed legs appeared in front of them and embraced each of the men involved, explaining that he was thankful for their sacrifice and their service to him. Without further ado a mob had quickly formed and rounded up the men to be burned at the stake.

The witches surmised that the Trickster God was true to his name and had played an ironic trick on the men by creating an illusion of Satan. Elspeth had been relieved that Loki's involvement meant that she hadn't needed to make a deal with a demon, although they were still not sure why Loki had arrived.

Dawn let out a soft cry and Lenore rocked her slowly in the rocking chair. She began singing an old Celtic lullaby that her ma had sang to her, and after two songs a man's voice interrupted her.

"Dawn's an odd name, isn't it? I haven't met too many folks in this century with a name like that; least, not this part of the world."

Alarmed, Lenore looked up and saw the Trickster gazing down at her with a mild look. Fear seized her heart and she mentally prepared spells that may be able to evict the pagan god from her home if she decided that he posed a danger to her or her sleeping children.

"Relax," he reassured her with a lopsided smile. "I'm not here to do anything bad. In fact, I don't think you've even thanked me yet for assisting you with your crazy-evil husband problem."

Surprised, Lenore found herself stuttering again. "I-I'm s-sorry. T-thank y-you v-very much for h-helping us, Loki," she said with downcast eyes as she tightly held onto her babe.

"You're welcome, kiddo," he smiled as he plopped casually into a chair facing opposite of her. "Although you should thank your brother – he's the one who summoned me. While Anyanka would have gotten the job done, it's likely that innocent people would have died along the way. Last time she dealt with a witch hunt she cooked the entire town, besides the woman who made the wish, in a gigantic cauldron."

"My brother summoned you?" was her initial response. She had not seen Fergus – he was on bed rest due to some injury.

"Oh, yes. Seems he cares a great deal for his little sister, as well as for his cousin and mother," Loki mused thoughtfully. "Strange though, to meet a human that is void of true emotion for all but three people in his life – heck, even his son and wife are not loved by him," he snorted.

Her heart warmed at the realization that her brother had saved them and a smile graced her lips. She would have to go see Fergus as soon as she was well enough to do so and thank him. Elspeth would be told as well so she could properly give thanks. Of course, Lenore's mother mustn't find out. She still did not know of her two children's involvement in witchcraft and and Lenore knew that her ma was still reeling from the fiery execution of her husband.

Of course, Lenore was not terribly upset by her father's untimely demise. She had never been close to him; he was a very controlling man that had been the one to force her to wed Connor, after all. However, she knew that her mother cared for him. Last night after her mother had returned the children to Lenore's care, she had looked so lost without Angus.

Lenore resumed her rocking as she began studying the pagan god before her. What was he doing here?

"Aren't you curious as to why I helped your soul-selling brother, Lenore?" he asked after a pause.

"Yes, I suppose so…but then again, I thought that humans could only speak when spoken to," she threw his words back at him with a hint of dry amusement.

Throwing his head back, Loki's laughter rumbled out of him. "Touché, my dear, touché," he grinned devilishly.

Lenore had to admit, there were not many men who struck her fancy but this pagan god was most alluring. Of course, that had to do in part with his stunningly pure aura that radiated from him.

And, well, perhaps the fact that she had been feeling very lonely for a very long time. It was only her dreams of the mysterious red-haired woman that gave her hope, but after her marriage to Connor she had started to lose the hope of ever finding her; ending up loveless in the pursuit.

"So why?" she asked quickly as she made herself stay focused to the task at hand and not her maudlin musings.

"He begged me," Loki shrugged. "I initially declined because I had no desire to help some worthless fool who's stupid enough to sell his soul to a demon. But I asked if he would give up what he had gained for his deal with the demon in exchange for my help. He initially refused – shocked that I would even ask for such a thing – but as I walked away he shouted "Take it! Just take it then!" and I decided to help. First I snipped a bit here and there, and then I set out for the village council meeting."

"Snipped?" Lenore asked in confusion.

Loki rolled his eyes in exasperation and Lenore was struck by his many human mannerisms. He either had picked up the habit long ago to blend in or had spent so much time with humans that those mannerisms were a part of him now. "By my lady, that brother of yours is a fool!" he stated with a shake of his head. "Did you know that he sold his soul to just get an extra three inches?" he asked incredulously.

Lenore blinked in confusion. "Three inches…?"

Loki let out a snort of laughter. "You know, three inches for his special man-place," he smirked with waggling eyebrows.

"Oh." And then, "Ew!" she exclaimed in disgust. "That's awful! By god, that _is_ foolish!"

She took note of how Loki twitched, like he had a nervous tick, when she said the word 'god'. Interesting. Did it offend the pagan god to use the word 'god' in vain?

"Yes, indeed. But, alas! He has it no longer," Loki grinned and winked. "In fact, I cut the entire thing off. 'Twas quite a bit of blood but he'll live and still has a hole to pee out of," Loki shrugged.

"What?" Lenore shouted, and immediately regretted it because Dawn let out a cry of annoyance. She lowered her voice to a soft serpentine hiss of anger and continued. "_You're_ the reason why my brother is bedridden? How dare you injure him so grievously!"

"Please," Loki scoffed. "That philandering man did not need to use his dick anymore than he already was. It's not like I strayed from the bargain or any such nonsense – he _did_ say "Just take it then", thus meaning that I was allowed to take it all. Besides," he laughed, "I know that his wife is quite glad of his condition and Fergus will indeed live – so why should you be upset? His sacrifice was necessary for me to help him?"

"Why?" she demanded angrily. Lenore hated to think of her brother disfigured and in pain – even if a part of her did know that his sacrifice was perhaps deserved due to his actions in this life.

"Hel-lo-oo?" he asked with a dumb expression as he pointed to himself. "Trick-ster!" he sounded out the word like she was addled. "That's the game, kid. I screw over assholes who deserve it by giving them their just deserts."

Lenore stilled as she contemplated his words. "Then why are you here to see me?" she asked cautiously.

Loki held up his index finger. "And that, my dear, is the right question to ask. See I'm here to help you out. Or, more specifically, help out Dawnie here."

"Why?" she asked him suspiciously, even though she was overjoyed by his offer of help. "Why would you want to help us?"

Lounging back, he smiled at her reaction. "Dawn's an apt name for your little girl. What made you call her that, anyways?"

Lenore frowned. "Well…it's an odd story, actually." She didn't want to tell this pagan god that she believed that the name came from her past life.

"Trust me, I've heard – and seen – some odd stories, kid," he chuckled as he leaned forward in anticipation.

"Well, I named all my children after dreams I had. I am not sure who those people are but the names have floated to me in the dark seas of my dreams: Alexander, who I often am tempted to call 'Xander' yet Connor never allowed me to use such a 'silly'," she scoffed, "name. Then there was the name Buffy, but again Connor would not allow such a trivial and foolish-sounding name so we compromised on Elizabeth. Finally, there was Dawn." Lenore shrugged. "Does that properly answer your question?"

"For the most part," he mused. "So you have no idea why you dream of these strangers?"

"No," she replied with a half-truth. She knew that the people likely came from her previous life but she had no idea why she dreamt of them so often.

"Hmm. Well, as I said, Dawn is an apt name for your daughter – for she will be the dawn of your descendants. From her, a strong line will flourish – a line that will bring about balance in the world, one way or another."

Balance.

The Temperance card had indicated that she would bring balance to the world. Is this what the card had meant?

Heart racing, she asked the trickster a question. "How do you know this? And why will it be Dawn's descendants?"

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come now, I thought you were a powerful witch. Surely you understand prophecies?"

"Y-yes. Is there a prophecy about me? Or my children?" she inquired hesitantly.

"Kiddo, one thing you need to learn straight away is that there is _always_ a prophecy – and in your life there's going to be oodles of them."

Lenore chewed her lip as she contemplated his words. "Why will there be so many? I am just a simple woman."

Loki let out a snort of laughter. "Simple is one thing you are _not_, Lenore. And don't worry – the answers will come to you when you are ready for them." He shrugged. "Or not. Certain folks don't care much for the feelings of humans, if you know what I mean."

Then he took his index finger and middle finger and pressed his fingertips against Dawn's fevered temple. "There," he whispered. "She's healed." He gave her a significant look. "Take care of yourself, Lenore."

"T-thank you," she managed to gasp in amazement. Dawn's forehead was cooling under her touch and her breathing no longer sounded as if liquid was trapped in her lungs; rather she was breathing normally now.

He shrugged. "No problem. Just, er, consider it an exchange of favors."

Lenore's back straightened. Damn. She knew that it was troublesome to seek favor from pagan gods, especially a trickster. "What?" she asked warily.

Loki laughed and shook his head in amusement.

Hmm, Lenore was _so_ glad that the trickster god found her to be such an amusing human.

Then his expression sobered and he spoke in a serious tone. "It is nothing that bad, Lenore. Just do me a favor and never mention to _anyone_ what my aura looks like – and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about because you almost spilled the beans in the church – or that I healed Dawn tonight. Do that, and I will cancel your debt."

Questions about his aura lay on the tip of her tongue but his eyes, tone, and posture indicated that she would be extremely foolish to question him about it at the moment – or ever. "I agree to your terms, Loki," she stated instead.

"Smart girl," he grinned, yet he made no move to leave. Instead his body remained tense, even as he tried to appear at-ease.

Her heartbeat sped up slightly as she took in his features. Loki had an unassuming form – he was short for a man of this region, his hair was a dark blond but underneath the flickering flame of her candles she noticed golden highlights that were streaked through his hair. His dress was modest and at first glance he blended in like any other human. But his eyes…oh, they were a warm amber, like heated maple syrup. His eyes were the most expressive part of him and she was drawn by how they could switch from twinkling with amusement to shining with ferocity so quickly. He radiated this pure sense of power that she had never felt before and it led her to feel conflicting emotions of both fear and safety in his presence. A part of her feared him and what he was capable of doing, yet another part of her yearned to know him and decipher the puzzle pieces that he had carefully laid over his true form and nature.

Noticing that a sly smirk had worked its way onto his features, Lenore felt her cheeks blush at the realization that she had been staring and she quickly turned so she could place Dawn in her crib. After all, her babe would need a good deal of sleep after such an exhausting two weeks of illness.

When she turned around Loki was still standing there in silent observation with his hands held at his waist. "Well, I suppose I'll be departing," he said as he tipped his head in her direction.

Something within her spirit screamed at her to get him to stay. _'He is powerful; he might know more about your past and your future that he would be willing to tell,'_ a voice within her reasoned. However, there was a part of Lenore that feared there was a different part of her being that wanted him to stay for selfish reasons.

"Loki? I understand that it is late and after healing my daughter, it would be only courteous for me to offer you a meal, and a bed if you desire," she invited him formally.

He gave her a considering look and then his eyes glowed with mirth. "Why, I would be pleased to accept your offer of a meal and a bed, but I have one question – will that bed be your own?" he asked with a sly look and waggling eyebrows.

Immediately her cheeks became inflamed and she found herself backpedaling at his forward comment. "I-I, I mean, t-that i-isn't w-what I m-meant," she stuttered; silently cursing herself for not getting overcoming that bad trait. "Th-there's an extra bed now that Connor i-is gone." Like most married couples, they shared separate bedrooms. Not all families could afford to do so but that was a perk of living in the minister's house.

Loki chuckled softly and winked at her. "Your virtue is safe, fair maiden. I was only teasing you," he grinned devilishly.

"Oh," Lenore said as she clasped her hands awkwardly in front of her dress. Now that she knew he had only been teasing her she suddenly felt foolish. How silly of her to think that such a powerful being desired her in that way!

Although…whispers told her that at one time a powerful being did love her deeply…but once again these whispers spoke in riddles and gave no real answers as to her past so she ignored them.

Now, suddenly feeling annoyed that Loki had made her feel foolish (and yes, also to take out her anger and annoyance at not understand the riddles her mind taunted her with when it came to her past life), Lenore could not help but deliver a sharp-tongued retort. "I am glad you were only teasing, Loki. Since you surely spent last night with that demon Anyanka, you attempting to climb into my bed would make you a man-tart of Cleopatra standards," she wryly observed.

Loki's mouth dropped open slightly. "Did you just call me 'man-tart'?" he asked in clear amusement.

"If the shoe fits," she smiled innocently at him as she began the walk to her kitchen so she could reheat the stew that her sister-in-law, Molly, had brewed for her. Since it was winter they kept ice boxes outside that could store meat and already cooked food, and it was a simple task to reheat the item over the wood-burning stove.

Letting out deep,throaty laughter, Loki followed her. "And just what is a 'man-tart' my fair Lenore? And is that an appropriate word for a lady of your standing?" he teased again.

While a part of her smiled inwardly at him calling her his 'fair Lenore' – after all, a man had never paid such compliments to her and the woman from her dreams was only a dream – she gave him a smirk of her own. "You forget yourself, good sir. I grew up with three older brothers, all of whom have filthy minds and mouths. 'Tis only natural for me to talk like that when I want to."

Loki laughed and surprised her by setting the table as she brought the fire to a low blaze and began reheating the stew – Connor had never helped her with meals. "That is understandable, I suppose," he acknowledged. "Yet I am still confused by this new term of 'man-tart'."

Grabbing a rag, she began cleaning the dining table – after all, it was a tad bit nerve-wracking to cook a meal for a god! – and glanced up to see his amber eyes focused on her. His lips were curled in amusement and looking at their softness made her chest tighten involuntarily.

Oh god, what was she thinking? Clearly her mind was overwhelmed from the events of the previous day, in addition to suffering over five years with an unromantic and unattractive husband. Not to mention, she had never spent time with an attractive and interesting man in such close proximity – or, at least, one who was not married.

Then again, the tales of the Norse gods _did_ say that Loki was married and had several children.

She met his smile with one of her own and answered his question. "Well, the way I see it, only women are called tarts and men, even if they are sexually promiscuous never face societal punishment, therefore I think that such men should be called man-tarts – or, at least, until a better word can be created," she added self-consciously.

Loki sat in the chair at the head of the table appeared amused by her statement.

"What is so funny?" she boldly asked him. As soon as the words left her mouth she wondered if she had made a mistake speaking so informally to a god, but equality between the sexes was an important subject to her and she felt personally offended that he – god or no god – thought that her concept of equal persecution was trite.

Giving her an apologetic smile, he simply shrugged. "I do not mean to offend you, Lenore. I am only amused because your pattern of thoughts is most unconventional for a woman of this day and age. There are past societies that viewed the sexes equally but within Europe that ideal was buried long ago. Tell me, where did you come to understand, or desire, this concept of equality?" he asked with an intrigued look.

Now it was Lenore's turn to shrug as she stirred the stew over the fire. "I am not sure – perhaps my cousin Elspeth and from hearing stories of Queen Elizabeth."

"I can tell when you lie, Lenore," he spoke in a stern, yet understanding, voice directly in her ear. Startled she jumped up and almost toppled against him, except he stopped her descent by calmly grabbing her by the shoulders and righting her. The skin underneath the fabric of her dress warmed at his touch and her breath caught in her throat.

Slowly, he turned her around and looked her in the eyes. "I may know more than you think, Lenore, but unfortunately there are certain things I can only answer if I am asked or know of. Therefore, it would be beneficial if you did not keep your secrets from me. Do you understand me?" he asked her in a serious tone.

"Y-yes," she replied. "I think so. But, wait. Why couldn't you answer my earlier questions?"

He rolled his eyes, released her shoulders, and smirked. "I said I can answer 'certain things', my dear, not everything."

She let out a groan of frustration and returned to her stew. Yes, now she could understand Anyanka's negative reaction to the trickster yesterday – he was a maddening fellow.

"_If_ you must know," she began tersely, "I dreamed about it long ago and have many times upon occasion. A world where woman dressed like men and held numerous important positions, like magistrate. Some even flew into outer space on a mystical white bird! These women were independent and many did not marry until their late twenties. It," she sighed sadly. "It was a glorious image and ever since then I could not get the idea out of my head. After all, why is it that we do not live in that world? Why must women be second-class citizens?" she huffed in annoyance as her anger caused her stirring to pick up speed.

"Well, well, aren't you strong like an Amazon?" he commented, seeming amused by her frustrated rant.

Lenore dropped the wooden spoon into the spoon and took a shaky, drawn out breath; it felt like solid iron had slammed into her stomach. A flash of that red-haired woman, this time crying, crossed her mind's eye…she knew that she was crying because someone had died, someone important to them and Buffy and Dawn and Xander and Anya. Tears leaked from her eyes and her hands began shaking. Oh god, the veil had been lifted just slightly, and just for a moment, but she craved more. Who had died? Who were those people? And most importantly, who was this woman that she was in love with?

"Lenore?" Loki said; a part of her was surprised that a pagan trickster god could sound so gentle at times. "Are you alright?"

Her back still to him, she picked up her spoon and returned to stirring. "Yes, I'm fine. I just had a sudden pain leftover from my, um, incident." She didn't know if she could truly trust Loki and telling him her vision felt too personal at the moment. Besides, her incident was a good excuse.

Lenore still couldn't out loud say what had truly happened to her – that she had had a miscarriage. It made everything feel so real, that she had lost her baby.

Luckily, for her, Loki returned to their previous conversation without further comment.

"Well, what makes you think that the world you speak of is so much better? After all, if women marry so late it cuts into their personal timetable to give birth and grow their families," he suggested in such a manner that Lenore got the distinct impression that he was testing her; playing devil's advocate.

Well she would show him.

"In my dream women still had babies – they just did both. I don't know how it is all possible for them, but I do know that women are unfairly treated in our country, and surely around the rest of the world. God made Adam and Eve as partners to serve as stewards over this world – it is not his will that women are treated so poorly."

Loki's eyebrow rose skeptically. "What is so wrong with the life of a woman today? She is cared for by her husband and only has to rear the children and tend to the household. It certainly seems easy enough."

Lenore frowned at him and, without realizing it, stirred the stew so quickly that it splattered all over her dress. "Oh bollocks," she cursed under her breath as she set the spoon down and inspected her dress.

"Perhaps what I said angered you?" he inquired with a knowing and amused look.

She just glared at him and began wiping away the strew using a dish rag.

"Lenore, my apologies," he said contritely and she _almost_ believed him, but she was quickly realizing that this trickster was of both sharp wit and dark humor; it was constantly difficult to gauge his true intent. As she pondered this, he snapped his fingers and suddenly the stew she had been wiping away disappeared off her dress!

"How did you do that?" she asked in amusement.

"Lenore, you're such a bright lass but then sometimes you say the dumbest things," he said with a deadpan look. Gesturing towards himself he said, "Me, Pagan God. Me have magic. Me can make things appear or disappear," he said in a guttural and slow voice.

Lenore blushed. She was more or less enjoying his company but he possessed this annoying ability to make her feel foolish more often than she would have liked. "Alright," she said with rolled eyes. "I get it. You don't have to do that Tarzan voice at me," she chided him as she carried the pot of strew to the dining table.

Loki almost dropped his bowl in shock. "_What_ did you just say?" he rapidly questioned her.

"Ah, I'm not sure…just that you did not need to explain yourself like I'm stupid," she said in a puzzled voice. "Why?"

Her companion just simply laughed and shook her head. "Tell me, Lenore, how do you know what 'Tarzan' sounds like or what one even is? Not to mention, do you even know who Tarzan is?" he asked with one raised brow and he ladled stew into her bowl and then his.

"I-I, um…I suppose I do not know," Lenore finally admitted as she nervously played with the hem of her apron as she sat to Loki's right at the table. "That happens upon occasion," she remarked thoughtfully in a small voice. "I'll mention something that I have no knowledge of, nor does anyone else."

"And what do _you_ think it means?" he asked her pointedly, most likely curious to know just how much she understood.

Lenore turned unwavering blue eyes towards him and told him the story of Elspeth's tarot readings. Throughout it all Loki gave her his rapt attention and, besides Fergus, she could not remember the last time a man showed genuine interest in something of meaning that she had to say.

Of course, Loki was not a man. It was best for her to remember that and to stay wary around him.

"So you believe you've been reborn?" Loki surmised at the end of her story. His tone was neither believing nor skeptical – he truly seemed interested in her opinion on the matter.

"Yes," she nodded. "At this point, that seems to be the only explanation for my lucid dreams and knowing about things that I shouldn't had I just been raised here in Liberton. _However_," she sighed, "I have done everything possible to lift the veil and see my old life, but nothing has worked – no cards, crystals, or even praying to God."

"You pray?" he repeated in surprise; almost choking on his spoonful of stew at the same time.

"Well, yes," she answered him in an offended tone. "Why not?"

He shrugged and then his eyes began studying her like a captive animal. "I have never met a Christian witch before. Tell me, how do you balance your worship of pagan deities with the Christian God?"

Lenore felt uncomfortable around the intensity of his stare. "That is a very personal question, sir."

He raised an inquiring eyebrow and his lips quirked. "Ah, but seeing that I've saved your youngest child from certain death, wouldn't that place us on a personal basis, Lenore?"

She frowned. He was too curious about her and that bothered her. Instead of feeling flattered, she felt worried. What did this being know about her, exactly? And why did he want to know more?

"Perhaps, sir, but that debt is moot since I will be keeping quiet about the very odd pure aura that a pagan of mischief and wickedness exudes," she carefully explained as she met his eyes and straightened her back. She did _not_ appreciate Loki throwing his favor back at her – in no way did she want to be in debt to a god.

His warm amber eyes cooled and narrowed at her. His presence of power pushed outwards and almost suffocated her; it was heavy and old – much older than she would have anticipated from a Norse god. In response, she wrapped her magic around her like a tight cocoon and likewise placed magical shields around her children, and then met his icy stare with a blazingly defiant one. After all, he was in _her_ home where _her_ children slept and if he even _dared_ to bring harm to any of them she would make him suffer.

Two long and arduous minutes passed until finally she felt his power deflate from the air and back into his being. Then he broke their stare and his head fell back with a laugh. Lenore stared at him, perplexed, and tried to understand his odd actions. Then it struck her and she scowled angrily at him.

"You were, you were testing me!" she hissed as she stared at him in shock.

Loki shrugged and gave her a lop-sided smile. "Guilty as charged."

She continued to stare at him, aghast. "But why?" Honestly, he was the most peculiar of creatures!

"To see how you'd react," he responded in a trivial tone. "You know, most witches would not even allow a deity such as I into their home. I am, after all, no Hecate. But you did so and, for the most part, seem unafraid of me, even thought I'm far more powerful than a mere mortal. I find that intriguing."

Still scowling, she picked up his empty bowl and began cleaning off the table. "You are in the house of my children, Loki, and I will not allow anyone – be thee man or god – to threaten them."

"Duly noted," he shrugged. "I promise I won't do that again," he vowed sweetly, with all the innocence of a child who promises to stay away from the biscuit can after their mother scolds them.

She turned to him and crossed her arms as she bore witness to his genial smile. "No, you won't," she said flatly. "Because you're leaving. I thank you for your assistance and I will keep up my end of the bargain. However, I cannot allow anyone in my home who is foolish enough to undertake a play of power in the presence of my sleeping children."

Loki's mouth opened in surprise. "Y-you're kicking me out?" he asked in shock. Clearly the deity did not often get kicked out by many mere mortals.

"Yes," she responded shortly. "I'll show you to the door."

Then, hoping that the anger that fed her bravery would extend just slightly longer, she began walking to her front door. Footsteps sounded behind her and she made sure to walk confidently with her head raised and her back straight as a rod. She quickly opened the door and stared at him expectantly.

Face blank, he gave her one more look-over. "I do apologize for my actions, Miss Maclay."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "I suppose I am no longer a 'Missus' now that I am widowed, but I certainly am no 'Miss', either. Not to mention my last name is 'O'Neil', sir."

He gave her a sly grin. "Whatever you say, Lenore." He pulled her right hand into his own and gave the back of it a gentle kiss. Surprised by his sudden gentlemanly move – the commoners in her village did not display such behavior – she just stared at him.

As his lips left her hand, he looked up at her with a serious expression. "When your thirst for truth has left you parched, forget not what resources you have."

Without another word he stepped out her door, snapped his fingers, and blinked out of existence.

Taken aback by his sudden disappearance and odd parting words, she stared outside for a moment longer before she shut the door against the freezing cold January wind. However, as she shut the door she realized that there was something in her right hand that fell as she shut the door. Suspiciously, she bent down to better inspect the item and saw a frail Forget-Me-Not flower lying mysteriously on the floor.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:**

Yes…I am a Loki fan and do love to include him whenever possible *grins* He just seems like such a good 'messenger' to me, what can I say? ;)

O'Dearest Readers, please holler, yo.

_References_  
***"Strong like an Amazon" refers to a moment on BTVS S5's 'The Body':  
WILLOW: Okay. We can be there for Buffy. And Dawn. (crying) Little Dawn.  
TARA: We can be strong.  
WILLOW: Strong like an Amazon?  
TARA: Strong like an Amazon, right.  
(.com/buffy/transcripts/094_)

***Tarzan was written in 1914, so 'Lenore' would have no knowledge of him.


	6. To Remember Not or To Forget Not?

**To Remember Not or To Forget Not?**

_Liberton, Scotland  
October 1, 1700_

_"When your thirst for truth has left you parched, forget not what resources you have."_

Lenore could not get Loki's final words out of her mind. For the last ten months she had debated with Elspeth (the other coven members had never been told about Lenore's past life) about the Forget-Me-Not flower that Loki had given to her. Clearly he had given her the flower as a way to remember her past life, but the two of them had debated multiple issues that went along with the situation.

For one, how was she supposed to use the flower to remember? Did she eat it? Or make it into a potion? Or do a spell with it? Or weave into her hair? There was no clear answer and if they chose the wrong answer, like eating the flower, then there would be nothing left to try again.

On the other hand, could they truly trust Loki? He was a dangerous creature and responsible for the deaths of five men in their village, and certainly hundreds more throughout Europe. More so, the trickster enjoyed, well, tricking people and who was not to say the flower would bind her to him or something else horrifying? Yet, during his time with her he had never seemed truly dangerous except once, and that had been a test of her own power and will.

Then there was one more question that Lenore did not have the answer to: Did she _verily_ want the truth? After twelve years of wondering of the past, dreaming of the past, sketching the past, was she truly prepared to know? After all, she had responsibilities that demanded her focus.

Since Connor's death she was forced to move out of the church's minister's house and instead moved in with Elspeth. After the death of their father, Fergus inherited the tailor shop and their clan home. With him, Molly, and their mother living above the shop, there was no room for her and the children. Fortunately, that worked out well because Elspeth loved having the children in the house and it gave Lenore easier access to do magic in the privacy of her cousin's cellar.

However, while their living arrangements had worked out well, Lenore still had to provide for her children. Marriage was _absolutely_ out of the question and Elspeth's herb business was only profitable for one person. Therefore, Lenore worked ten hours a day in Fergus' tailor shop sewing, cutting, and fitting. She had a moderate talent in the area and quite a bit of creativity to please their customers, but it was certainly not her passion and the work was hard.

Not to mention, Fergus' attitude had noticeably soured since January. While he had initially stated that his loss of organ was worth it to save her and Elspeth from certain death, he became bitter when he learned of Anyanka's presence and that his help had not truly been needed. Lenore had assured him that it had because otherwise Anyanka likely would have destroyed the whole village, but he was still unsatisfied with her words. She of course felt awful about his unhappiness, but she was getting tired of his increasingly short temper. He was outright rude to people constantly and while he was still the nicest to her and the children, he would even snap at her more often than she liked.

Therefore, working in the shop was not very pleasant.

And if she learned about her past life, what then? What if that changed everything and she felt compelled to leave her family and find the woman that she dreamed of?

There was just too much at stake.

…And yet…It was painful not to know. To have a glimpse into a life that she didn't have anymore or even understand felt like a shallow needle prick each time it occurred. Then to have numerous glimpses but still walk away uneducated felt like a knife wound to the chest.

She had to know. After all, Elspeth had always said that knowledge was powerful. What if she learned something that could help others? After all, that flash of knowledge about Anyanka had greatly helped them. What if more pertinent information lay past that veil?

Oh for the love of Hecate, this was maddening.

Most maddening was her inability to make a decision. Did she leave the flower in its jar or did she use it?

For the rest of the night Lenore could not sleep as she tossed and turned in her bed. Finally, she decided to take the plunge and use the flower – and just hope that God watched over her as she did so.

Silently she walked through the dark house, careful to wake no one. She knew that Elspeth would want to be here with her but Lenore felt that she needed to do this on her own.

Lighting a candle in the kitchen, she walked down the cellar steps and used magic to open their coven room. She slid inside and breathed in the ancient smell of magic in the air. Now a practicing witch for a dozen years, the power of the room no longer overwhelmed her. Now she found it comforting and familiar; it pleased her sometimes to just sit in here and relax. Elspeth had said that the room had been used by witches in her clan for centuries and judging by the flavor of the room she would have to agree.

Very carefully she extracted the jar containing the Forget-Me-Not out off of the shelf and placed it in front of her on the table. This flower symbolized several things, but most intriguing to her was that it was worn by lovers so they would not forget one another, specifically when the man went off to war. Of course the red-haired woman came to mind and she was wondering if that was why Loki had chosen this flower.

Lenore sighed as she rested her head onto cradled hands. Now she just needed to determine the best way to use this flower.

_"When your thirst for truth has left you parched, forget not what resources you have."_

Well, she had finally made the decision to discover the truth about herself, so she supposed she was parched for knowledge. Obviously the Forget-Me-Not was her resource, but that still didn't identify how she needed to use the flower.

After an hour of silent questioning she let out a grunt of frustration and went back upstairs to get a jug of water from the kitchen. Maybe she was just tired and needed to be refreshed – a drink would do that.

A drink.

Oh Lord, she was stupid. Of course if she was parched for knowledge she would need a drink, and what did one do with dry leaves and flowers but make tea?

It was all so simple now. Quickly Lenore grabbed the water jug and went back to the room where she dumped the liquid into the cauldron and began boiling it. Trembling with excitement she crushed the dried flower in her hand and sprinkled it into a tea cup. Once the water was finished she poured it over the flower and let it sit for ten minutes – quite possibly the longest ten minutes of her life. Finally it was cool enough to drink and she placed a tea leaf strainer over it.

She raised the glass up the heavens and said a silent prayer with closed eyes. Then, with trepidation creeping through her veins and excitement spiraing through her body, she took a small sip and then gulped the rest of it down.

Shoulders tense, she set the cup on the table and waited for the memories to come. Here it was, the moment she had been waiting for…

A minute passed, then five. Then ten, fifteen, twenty, and then thirty.

And nothing happened.

It looked like in the end the Trickster had tricked her.

Dejected, she scooted back her chair and began re-shelving the now-empty jar and cup. Frustrated, she kicked the table leg and practically growled. All this, and she had nothing to show for it, nothing at all. She would never know who she, Eleanor 'Lenore' Amelia McLeod, really was.

_She was Tara Maclay._

Daughter of Sarah Campbell Maclay and Kevin Maclay; sister of Donald Maclay.

She had lived in Hooper, Utah until she had moved to Sunnydale, California…where she had truly come to life.

Lenore's mind exploded with colors and images so intense that a choking gasp was ripped from her throat. Falling forward towards the table, she caught herself with trembling hands. She opened her eyes but she couldn't see the room in front of her. Instead, dozens, hundreds, thousands, and millions of images blinked across her mind's eye. Whispers spoke to her of names, songs, and stories that quickly coalesced into one never-ending scream. As her brain began overloading with information her trembling increased to full-body convulsions and she fell twitching to the floor.

It was too much…too much information…

Unconciousness was a welcome distraction.

* * *

Lenore dreamed.

She was in a room scented with the musky aroma of incense and several paintings on the wall. A knock sounded, echoing through the empty room. Feeling oddly apprehensive, she opened the door and saw Her.

_The_ Her. Her mystery woman.

Lenore's breath caught in her throat and she was blinded by the brilliance of her smile. God, she had dreamt of that smile so many times. And her eyes – they were like small emeralds shining under the sun's rays and Lenore wanted so badly to bask in her light. A nervous smile played along her lips and she gave Lenore an expectant look as she held up a flaming candle.

"No candles? Well, I brought one. It's extra flamey."

Oh God, the sound of her voice was heartbreakingly lovely. Never before had Lenore heard her speak. She spoke as soft like a pixie and as quickly as their wings beat against the wind.

Lenore was silent and she stepped forward to give her the candle and then closed the door behind herself.

"Tara, I have to tell you..." Lenore was not sure who Tara was but this goddess could call her Bob for all she cared.

"No, I-I understand. You have to be with the person you l-love," she found herself saying.

The goddess before her smiled, and it was no longer a nervous smile, but an excited one. "I am."

Her breath was stolen from her. This woman loved her? Never before had she been loved – either in her past or present life had she felt that emotion.

"You mean…?"

"I mean," the woman stated significantly. "Okay?"

"Oh, yes," she said in soft wonderment.

The goddess continued speaking. "I feel horrible about everything I put you through. A-and I'm gonna make it up to you. Starting right now."

Lenore smiled, still basking in amazement that this woman loved her. "Right now?"

She smiled and nodded, and Lenore blew out the candle. They were shrouded in darkness and she felt very nervous – her previous dreams had never gotten to the point of kissing! But then the woman's lips were on hers; it was a soft kiss, an unsure kiss. Oh, but it sent shivers down her spine. Her hand cupped the base of the woman's neck and she opened her mouth slightly to truly taste her.

Suddenly a flood of memories arose in Lenore – meeting this woman at the Campus Wiccan group, practicing magic with her, falling in love with her, working with the Scoobies, fighting with her, taking her back into her arms…and then the final image of blood splattered over her white shirt.

"Willow," she moaned softly as her mind spiraled further into an abyss of memories past.

* * *

Sleep covered her like a thick quilt and Lenore was experiencing difficulty uncovering herself. Heavy-lidded eyes struggled to open and her limbs felt like they were weighted down with boulders. There was a rustle of movement to her side and she heard her brother's voice.

"Lenore? Good god, woman, are you awake?" he asked in hushed concern.

Cracked lips opened to speak but only a croak emerged from them. Dry coughs erupted out of her mouth and she felt herself pulled up; Fergus' arm supported her and she felt him sitting at her left side. Something cool touched her lips and she felt it fall down her throat. Initially she choked and Fergus patted her back.

"There now, don't choke. You need this, Len."

Len. So many times the sound of that name had annoyed her to no end, but now she greeted it warmly. She was back, back from wherever she had been; back to a brother that loved her and not one that verbally abused her.

A little bit more liquid slipped past her lips and then she felt Fergus pulled her tightly against him. "Dammit, Len. I thought you were going to die. What the hell were you thinking?" he asked gruffly.

"Fer—" she tried to say but she coughed instead. Her eyes blinked open once, twice, and on the third time she was able to take in her environment. She was in her room in Elspeth's home lying on the bed. Fergus was the only other occupant but she thought she heard movement down the hall.

Lenore remembered what had happened. Loki had been true to his word and the Forget-Me-Not had worked. She had dreamt of everything, every last detail of her former life as Tara Maclay. The information was overwhelming but she had attempted to sort it in detail during her dreams.

Her mother had been a powerful witch but after her death she – or rather, Tara – had left home right after graduation to go to school far away in California. There she had met Willow, a woman whose aura had shined with the multi-faceted brilliance of a rainbow. With her Tara helped the vampire slayer Buffy fight demons with their other friends, Xander, Anya (who she now recognized was the same Anyanka from the church cellar), Mr. Giles, Spike, and Dawn. Her end had been sudden and unexpected – a wound through the chest by an unknown assailant.

The process of learning all of this was very traumatic. She still had many questions…specifically, why in the heck was her past life born in the 20th century yet her second life was born in the 17th century?

Fergus gave her some more water and she swallowed it with more ease this time. His tone became annoyed and defensive, which he only did when he was really worried. "Bloody hell Len, I didn't give up my bits and pieces in exchange for your life only to have to try to die on me less than a sodding year later."

She smiled, and then inwardly winced as her chapped lips cracked with the effort. "Wouldn't want you to be both penis-less and sister-less," she joked dryly in a raspy voice.

"Exactly," he grumbled, but his voice sounded relieved now and he gave her a quick squeeze before laying her back down on the bed.

"How long have I been asleep?" she whispered as he returned to his seat.

Fergus opened his mouth to speak and then just shook his head in astonishment. "Seven bloody days, Len. Seven days. If Elspeth hadn't told me that your soul was still in your body, I would have thought you dead."

"Seven days?" she choked.

He nodded. "By all accounts you should be dead – no one can survive without a drink for this long and live. I even asked Elspeth if she performed a spell to keep you alive but she said that was 'dark magic' and denied doing one," he rolled his eyes. Lenore could tell that he didn't care about dark magic and its consequences very much.

Fergus sighed. "I should get Elspeth. You'll need a meal quickly. Do you have enough strength to see the children now?"

Her children. God, they felt like a lifetime ago. It was hard for her to keep both lives separate and after spending so much time in her previous life she had forgotten about them.

"Send them," she croaked.

Once he left she let out a long, painful sigh. The mere idea that she had forgotten about her children – even only momentarily – made her wonder if her decision to drink that tea had been worth it.

Only time would tell.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks to everyone for reading!

As always reviews = love, and we all know that love makes the world go round ;)

_References:_  
***Forget-Me-Not: .org/wiki/Forget-me-not  
***Dialogue taken from 'New Moon Rising'. Transcript found here: .com/buffy/transcripts/075_


	7. Casteeel, An Angel of the Lord

**"Castee-el", An Angel of the Lord**

_Liberton, Scotland  
October 16, 1700_

_Samhain_ was approaching. With it came the death of yet another season and the end of the year, as her Celtic ancestors had once celebrated. What once had been alive with color and ripe with life was now in the midst of dying. Trees commenced with their annual death and bronzed autumn leaves carpeted the ground. Flowers shriveled, as if to huddle against the coming cold, and eventually returned back to the earth. Crisp winds shepherded the summer warmth away and heralded the coming arrival of old man winter.

In a way, Lenore felt that she was in a similar situation.

The old her, the one who was so much more innocent, was dying. Like the trees, her former self was withering on the branches of her mind and just waiting for the right amount of wind to scatter her across the earth's floor.

Lenore McLeod was not the same and never would be again.

As much as she longed for her simpler life, it would never be hers again. She was cursed with the knowledge of what was to come. Her mother's death in an automobile accident, Buffy's death and resulting resurrection with dark magical ramifications¸ Mrs. Summers' death, Willow's fading into magic, all the many apocalypses, and so much more. None of which she could stop.

Worse – imminently worse – she would never find her Willow again.

The blessing of remembering her lover's caress and voice and personality were most cherished. For years Tara had known that a red-haired woman loved her but she had always yearned to know who. Yet, now Lenore did know who she was…but she would never live long enough to know her. Instead she would spend the rest of her life with the faint memory of Willow's embrace but she would never be able to hold her in her arms again.

It was cruel.

Why must she have a past life? And if others did as well, why didn't they remember it? Why must Lenore be _cursed_ so wickedly? There was no sense in this dilemma, to give her a glimpse into what had been and will be without allowing her to make some sort of impact.

Even more frustrating was she was going mad over deciphering – yet again – her tarot reading.

_The Queen of Swords had indicated that she would have power, intellect, and freedom; yet there was a darkness that threatened to disrupt everything in her life._

This was easily understood. Lenore was a witch of great power and now with her memories of spells performed in the future her abilities had expanded. However, she did not know what dark force approached her…unless it had to do with a demon.

_The Devil had marked a demonic force as her obstacle in life and that it would attempt to enslave her._

As 'Tara' she had encountered a wide variety of demons (which had been quite educational since neither she nor Elspeth knew much about demons or vampires). It would be more Dawn-like and less Tara-like to get captured by a demon, but she supposed that could happen.

_Death had indicated her past life._

Which was, as her old friends would have stated, 'hello Captain Obvious.'

_Judgment, the card of Gabriel the Archangel, had shown her future and that individuals from her past would appear._

This was the card that confused her. 'Tara' had died three-hundred years into the future…how could she ever find her friends again? More importantly, how could she ever see Willow again? This card gave her a false hope that angered her to no end.

_Temperance showcased her strengths of bringing balance, having a powerful being to help her battle the demon that threatened her, and that she had the ability to stand in two worlds at once. _

Loki had said that her daughter Dawn's line would bring balance to the world so she could only assume that answered for the Temperance card. After all, she didn't have an ability to directly bring balance, did she? When it came to who might come to her aid against the demon that threatened her, all she could think of was a vampire slayer. Perhaps the Watcher's Council Headquarters was nearby? And as for standing in two worlds at once, that made sense since she was very clearly standing in the memories of two lives from two different time periods right now.

_And finally her last card in the reading was The Tower, which indicated that chaos and aggressive change, perhaps led by a message from God and brought about by conflicting thoughts and actions. _

Once again, she still had no idea what this card meant. And once again, she was frustrated.

Ye gods, she was again regretting her gain of knowledge. Ignorance was indeed bliss.

"Mama, mama, mama!" squealed Elizabeth as she ran outside to where Lenore was meditating underneath her Willow tree…er, Elspeth's willow tree she supposed…

Lenore opened her eyes and smiled at the rambunctious four-year old scampering towards her. "Come here, darling," she said as she held out her arms. She sighed as her daughter fell into her and tightened her hold. For the first two days she had a great deal of trouble remembering certain things about this life – and that included much about her children. Living with the memories of two lives was incredibly difficult and, quite frankly, it had scared her how much she had forgotten about her babies.

"Now, what are you doing out here on your own?" Lenore inquired as she pulled Elizabeth back to inspect her. "Shouldn't you be with Elspeth?" Her cousin was busy canning apples inside while Lenore rested for the afternoon – she needed a great deal of rest these days.

Elizabeth's eyes lit up as she let out a joyful giggle. "Cousin Elspeth let in a very nice man and then she went to sleep!"

Instantly Lenore was on alert. "What? Who is he?" she asked fearfully. Was this the demon that the cards had spoken of? Elspeth _never_ would have fallen asleep unless a spell had been cast on her.

Or…was it Loki? She hated to admit it but she had missed him these past ten months. He had been more enjoyable to talk to than most people she knew; besides her coven and Fergus and Molly she had no friends. Even though he had frightened her that night and she had kicked him out, she was now grateful to him for gifting the Forget-Me-Not – regardless of how many times she had second-guessed using it.

Elizabeth's light blue eyes brightened as they shone with an intellect that Lenore had not witnessed before. She touched her tiny forehead against Lenore's and whispered so softly that she had to strain her ears to listen. "He's an _angel_, mama."

Lenore let out a short, skeptical laugh. Her daughter could be so odd sometimes. Regardless, before she said another word she picked up Elizabeth and raced inside the house, worried about who could be inside.

Her mind and magic at the ready, she stalked into the home quietly and ordered Elizabeth to go into her room. Then, making her way into the sitting room she first noticed that Elspeth was fast asleep on her sewing chair, Dawn was still in her cradle, and Alexander was…playing _tag_ with the stranger?

Alexander five-year face shined with happiness as jumped from a chair in front of the man, slapped him on the knee, and shouted, "Tag! You're it!" and then dissolved into giggles as he began running circles around the man. For his part, the stranger's clear blue eyes were widened in confusion as he observed the running child and his stiff posture indicated that he felt quite uncomfortable.

Lenore was just about to shout at Alexander to get away from the man when Elizabeth ran between her legs and jumped up and down in front of the man and her brother. "I want to play! I want to play! I want to play!" she chanted, her hops accenting each word.

"Elizabeth! Alexander!" Lenore snapped angrily. "Get away from this man!" Her shoulders straightened and she instantly covered her children with magical shields in case this man tried to hurt them.

The man in question turned his luminescent blue eyes upon her and the weight of them took her breath away. Involuntarily she peeked at his essence and was blown away by the purity of it. It reminded her greatly of Loki's and she wondered if this man was also a pagan god.

"Mama!" Elizabeth whined as her chubby fingers curled around the man's hand. "Don't be silly. He's my friend."

The man looked at her in surprise at being called her friend, and then a soft look entered his eyes as he smiled slightly.

Then Alexander, not wanting to be outdone by his younger sister, grabbed the stranger's other hand and gave his mother an almost defying look. "Yeah! I want him to play tag with me!"

Lenore, too worried about this powerful creature in her house to pay her children much heed, whisked them away telekinetically next to Dawn's cradle on the other side of the room. Her children yelped in surprise and annoyance but she silenced them with a severe look as she crossed her arms. Then she turned her powerful gaze onto the man and spoke in a deep voice that hinted at her power – power that had greatly increased now that she knew of her past life and magics not yet known in this part of the world.

"I will not ask you again, sir. Who are you?"

The man gazed at her with a fathomless expression. Then he spoke in crisp clear tones that hinted at his own reserve of power. "I am Castiel."

Lenore blinked in surprise. She didn't remember that name from mythology. What sort of pagan god was he? "Okay…and what exactly are you?" she asked; noticing how her meshed memories of this century and the twentieth had begun changing her way of speech. Hmm. She hoped she didn't start talking like Buffy – then everyone in her village would think she was addled, or mad.

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Castiel declared – causing Elizabeth to clap her hands and go, "I told you mama, I told youuuuuuu!"

"A-an a-angel?" she sputtered in surprise. Of course Lenore believed in the Holy Scriptures but for some reason she had never really imagined that angels were real. Then again, if the Hellmouth, vampires, demons, and more were real, she supposed angels could be as well.

"Yes," Castiel nodded with a small movement as he gestured towards her children. "Your daughter has the Sight and recognized me. Some humans have that ability and can witness my true form." He frowned. "I had thought you were capable of that as well, Lenore McLeod."

"She has the…Sight?" she whispered as she glanced at Elizabeth. Were her children destined to have magical abilities as she did? Lenore was unsure how she felt about that – she wanted to simple, happy life for them.

"Three is a powerful number, Lenore. Your children have been blessed," Castiel nodded. His expression remained stoic and Lenore couldn't help but feel very confused about this peculiar creature.

Lenore nodded. "So when I see your aura, I am seeing your…?"

"My grace."

"Ri-ight," she nodded. "So that's why I'm supposed to believe that you are an angel and not a pagan god?"

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed – the first time since their conversation began that he looked surprised. "Why would you think such a thing? Pagans are creatures of darkness and their aura should express itself as such."

Lenore opened her mouth to speak before she remembered Loki's words. _Just do me a favor and never mention to anyone what my aura looks like – and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about because you almost spilled the beans in the church – or that I healed Dawn tonight. Do that, and I will cancel your debt._

Hmm. Something mysterious was afoot. Perhaps Loki was not who he pretended to be? Nonetheless, she could not mention it to this strange Castiel angel, lest she anger Loki and nullify her debt.

"I, well, I could tell that you were powerful and few creatures on this earth have that much power," she explained to him; keeping her eyes downcast as she did so that Castiel would not see the lie in her eyes.

"Mama, I'm bored," Alexander suddenly whined. "Can't Castiel play with us now? Castiel, will you play tag with Lizzie and me?"

Castiel looked taken aback. "I know not what this 'tag' is."

"Oh!" Alexander said in surprise. "Don't you play tag up in 'eaven? It's really fun, see first someone's 'It' – that's you – and then they have to chase everyone. The first person they tap is then 'It' and it's their turn to chase everyone and the person who gets to 'ome wins! It's super really fun and me and Lizzie are so bored because no one else will play with us—" he explained excitedly before his sister cut him off.

"—Because our daddy was a bad man that did things for the Devil," Elizabeth finished sadly.

"Oh, Lizzie," Lenore sighed sorrowfully. While the villagers 'knew' that Lenore and the others had been just innocent victims and not witches, unfortunately the other village children rejected Elizabeth and Alexander for their father's 'deal' with the devil. Ignoring the strange angel who was staring at her children as if he were looking for something, she pulled Elizabeth into her arms as her daughter began to cry.

"Everyone's s-so m-mean to us," Elizabeth whimpered as tears began rolling down her cherub-like cheeks.

Lenore closed her eyes and rocked her daughter back and forth as she stood near her other children. Dammit, she loathed Connor O'Neil and the very memory of him.

"May I?" she heard Castiel speak. Looking up, she saw him extend his arms out as if he wanted to hold Elizabeth. Lenore gauged him carefully but she realized that it was silly to fear an angel. After all, they were from heaven.

Carefully she put the crying child into Castiel's arms and watched as he pulled the girl close to his chest. With a gentle finger he forced Elizabeth to look at him and then he captured her grey eyes with his own piercing blue ones. For a minute they just stared at one another while Lenore stood, tensed, off to the side. Finally Elizabeth ceased crying and Castiel set her on the floor, where she quickly scampered to take hold of Alexander's hand.

"What 'appened, Lizzie?" Alexander asked in concern, although she could see by the way that he glanced at Castiel that her son was also feeling quite jealous as well.

Elizabeth giggled and spoke in a hushed – yet loud enough for Lenore to hear – whisper. "Castee-el said that we shouldn't worry about the other village chil'ren because Fre'rick O'Malley still wets his bed and Jenny McCormick is gonn grow up with big teeth!" she laughed and Alexander started snickering.

"Now, come on. Castee-el said that he and mama had to talk alone. Let's go," Elizabeth ordered as she tugged her older brother out of the room.

Perplexed, yet amused, by the recent events, Lenore crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. "Are angels allowed to tell secrets about bed wetting to other children?" she inquired with a raised brow.

His eyes darted around, as if he felt guilty. "I, ah, just cannot bare to watch children cry. Especially the females. It-it makes me nervous."

Lenore stifled a laugh. A nervous angel? This was amusing. "So you like kids?"

Castiel glanced at her with his forehead wrinkled, yet again, in confusion. "Kids? You mean young goats?"

Lenore laughed – she realized that she had regressed (or was that progressed?) into her twentieth-century speech). "I meant children. You like children?"

"Oh course," he said while giving her the look like she was the dumbest person on the planet – quite like Loki in that way. "They are one of my Father's greatest gifts to the world."

"Speaking of which…why are you here? Doesn't an angel have much more important things to do?"

"You are my charge. I will be watching over you."

Lenore blinked. "Right. And why would that be again?" Then she remembered the Temperance card that promised to help her against the darkness that faced her…and the image on that card was one of an angel. Was Castiel the answer to that aspect of her tarot reading?

"You have remembered your past life, correct?"

"Yes…" she replied. "What does that have anything to do with it?"

"You have knowledge of great future battles against the forces of darkness. You, Lenore McLeod, are a Prophetess of the Lord."

"…HUH?" she managed to get out of her gaping jaws and befuddled expression.

Once again, Castiel was looking at her like he had really been expecting her to be smarter than this. "You are a Prophetess of the Lord," he repeated slowly.

Lenore's hand went up to starve off further words by him. "Whoa. Wait a moment. Castiel, was it? Listen, I'm sorry but I'm not a Prophetess. Besides," her voice lowered, "you all do know that I'm a witch, right?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side as if he were trying to understand her better. "You do not engage in demonic worship or sacrifices, do you?"

Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to understand him. "Well, no – of course not. I do not engage in wickedness or black magic."

"Then you are a good witch," he nodded. "Both as Tara Maclay and as Lenore McLeod you have worked for the side of light – and most especially in your past life. Then you were a warrior against evil."

"Oh, no. Nooo," she shook her head. "I wasn't a warrior. Buffy was, and Willow. But not me. I just helped."

Castiel fixed her with an unblinking stare. "You were a warrior – and such sacrifices do not go unnoticed. Regardless of the minor deities that you perform your incantations to, you are still known as a Christian woman, Lenore. You have been Blessed to be brought into this life so that you may write of the future and properly warn the warriors of light against the forces of darkness."

Lenore sat down. "B-but, aren't there already prophecies about stuff like that? I mean, there was the one about the Master killing the slayer, and the Key, and that one that Willow told me about regarding Angel's Shanshu prophecy…" she trailed off in confusion.

"Not yet, but there will be," Castiel stated with a significant look in her direction.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. "So…I'm the one that writes those prophecies?"

Castiel nodded.

"Why me?" she finally asked after a moment of silence.

"Each Prophet of the Lord learns of events in their own way. For many it is visions but for you, it is your previous life's experience. The Last Guardian of the Hellmouth is an important figure in the battle against evil and she will need to know of what is to come in order to mold her and keep her safe for the final battle. You have been appointed with this duty, Lenore McLeod."

Lenore put her head into her hands – this was all quite a bit to take in. She was a _Prophetess_? Of the _Lord_?

Then again, hadn't she been angry earlier about having this curse of knowledge and not being able to do anything about it? Well, she supposed now she could do something about it.

But there was still one more thing…

"Alright", she said as she looked up into Castiel's bottomless blue eyes. "But I have one question – if I am to write these prophecies that will take time away from the tailor shop. Tell me sir, how am I supposed to provide for my family?"

Castiel's gaze softened. "Have faith, my child."

Then, accompanied by the sound of fluttering wings, he was gone.

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
November 27, 1700_

Over a month had passed since Castiel had come into her life. She had not seen the angel since then but a part of her sensed that he was always near. Her life had changed slightly due to her revelation since then. Lenore no longed worked in the shop with Fergus – who was none too pleased but she had waved it off as being too weak from her illness that had made her comatose to work for a long while. Then she spent her days with the children and her nights writing prophecies.

That was still a bit odd to get used to – that she wrote prophecies. However, it made her feel good that she could help her friends…even if she never would see Willow again.

Of course she had told Elspeth about Castiel since her cousin was her mentor in all things. Elspeth had not been as greatly surprised as Lenore that angels existed – to her it made sense that the forces of good needed warriors of their own. However, Elspeth had been none to pleased that the angel had knocked her out in the process.

It was late afternoon and winter had arrived with a ferocity. Lenore shivered underneath her thin coat as she made her way to the tailor shop in order to drop off some porridge for her mother – Margaret McLeod's health had been steadily weakening since Angus had died and now a watery cough invaded her lungs. Lenore was greatly worried about her mother and feared her death. While on one hand she logically understood that all creatures who lived must one day die, on the other – as a daughter – she could not imagine her mother dying...again.

Opening the shop door she rushed inside and had to use a good deal of strength to push the door closed – the wind was dreadful today. Fortunately for her, the fireplace was blazing and she let out a happy sigh as she stood in front of it. "Mmm, yes," she murmured softly as she rubbed her hands close to the fire.

A throat cleared behind her and Lenore jumped up to see Fergus smirking at her from his kneeling position as he stood next to Mr. Williams, the town butcher, who was standing on a stool and getting a pair of pants fit. The latter was staring at her as if he was suddenly very regretful that he was no longer a young man anymore.

"Oh! Er, hello," she greeted sheepishly as she straightened herself.

"Len, perhaps you should go upstairs and see mother. I'm afraid if you stay here any longer Mr. Williams' heart may finally give out," he suggested in a humorous tone.

"Um, right. She bent her head hastily in their direction. "Lovely seeing you, Mr. Williams!"

"Y-you too, dear," he choked out.

After Lenore fed her mother – who thankfully was at least well enough to eat – she watched her as she fell asleep. The porridge that she had made also carried a healing potion and she prayed that it would work its will on her mother. Currently her life was too unstable – between an angel saying that he would protect her, the cards saying a demon was after her, being a mother, and writing about her past life that was actually in the future – and Lenore needed her mama right now.

"She asleep?" Fergus' voice asked from the doorway.

"Yes," Lenore replied as she quietly snuck out of the room and closed the door. "She finished her meal so I hope that means she's getting better."

They began walking down to the empty shop. "Did you fix a potion for her?"

Lenore gave him a sharp look – they had never spoken of magic before. "Why would I do that?"

Fergus rolled his eyes and snorted. "Hush Len, I'm no fool. It wasn't too hard to figure out years ago that Elspeth was tutoring you – likely hoping that you would turn out better than I."

"Ah, I see," Lenore said as she wrung her hands nervously. "Are you mad that I never told you?"

He leaned against the wall and looked into her eyes. "Honestly? Sure, I was a bit buggered at first but I know how our cousin can be when it comes to secrecy about the craft. But now I'm hoping that one of you can create something to help ma."

Lenore shrugged. "There's a few healing potions that I know of and we've been feeding them to her, but it's still hard to say if it is working."

He nodded and made a humming noise.

"Fergus!" called Molly from the kitchen. "Is that Lennie that I hear?"

Lennie – ugh, something even worse than Len. She enjoyed Molly, she really did, but she took too much enjoyment in treating Lenore like the little sister that she had never had.

Fergus smirked – he loved annoying Lenore even more than his wife did. "Yes, she's in the shop."

A frazzled-looking Molly with her black curls bouncing around her shoulders, walked in wearing a flour-covered apron. "'Ello there, Lenore. You stayin' for supper?"

"Sorry, I've got to get back. I just wanted to check in on ma," Lenore shook her head.

"Ah, such a shame," her sister-in-law frowned.

Things had been *much* better between her brother and his wife since Gavin had run off to work in Edinburgh and Fergus had his 'incident', but she knew that Molly preferred a group of people rather than Fergus' alone. Her brother was much the same way. With Gavin gone he did not have the source of his animosity around to constantly remind him that his son may not be his son and thus he was much nicer to Molly – although it was clear that he still did not love the woman, nor she love him.

The bells sounded and a cold blast of air indicated that the shop had a new arrival. Fergus painted on his best 'salesman face' and greeted the hopeful customer. "Good day to you, sir, and welcome to McLeod and Sons Fine Clothing. What can I be doin' you for?"

The man, well-dressed in all black, noticeably sniffed as she surveyed the humble shop with its two rows of clothing and yards of fabric laying out. "My name is George Hartford and I am the solicitor for the estate of Lord Cornelius O'Connor, Baron of Summerford. I am here to speak to the widow of the Baron's eldest nephew, Connor O'Neil. A Ms. Lenore O'Neil?"

Fergus' eyebrows shifted in surprise as he gave Lenore an incredulous look. "Lenore is my sister, sir, and she's right here."

Mr. Hartford gave her a scrutinizing look before he nodded in her direction. "Greetings, Ms. O'Neil. Do you have a place where we could speak privately?"

Lenore nodded, rather dumbly, and led the solicitor into the back room of the store. She couldn't help but wonder…what on earth would this man want with her?

* * *

**A/N:**

Ah, the introduction of yet another fun Supernatural character! What joy :)

Thanks to everyone for reading!

Reviews are immensely appreciated :D


	8. The Devil Card is Revealed

**The Devil Card is Revealed**

**A/N:**

Oh, and thanks to AllenPitt for the 'prophecy p.s:' idea – he always has the best ideas ;)

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
January 30, 1701_

"Greetings, your ladyship," smirked Fergus as bowed low in her direction as soon as Lenore had shut the house door behind him and Molly. They dusted the snow off of their coats within the foyer of Elspeth's house and shook the pesky white flakes off of their shoes before Lenore took their outerwear to hang up.

Molly let out a snort of laughter and likewise curtsied. "Baroness O'Neil, how good of you to have us over."

"Oh sod off," Lenore rolled her eyes as she took the pot of Molly's famous haggis and began walking to the kitchen.

"Dear me," Fergus said lightly with a cluck of his tongue as they followed her. "I daresay, is that any way for a lady of your station to speak?"

Lenore dropped the haggis onto the dining table and turned around to glare at him. "Honestly, _Fug_. Aren't you ever going to get tired of that?"

Fergus scowled at her use of Elizabeth's pet name for him. "Certainly not, _Len_."

"Oh, will you two children cease your bickering?" Elspeth grumbled as she waltzed into the kitchen with a harried expression. "I've already been dealing with quite a bit of troublesome children already today," she explained with a gesture towards the sitting room.

"He started it," Lenore snapped, out of habit, as Fergus simultaneously stated "She started it."

"Molly?" Elspeth asked with an arched brow as she placed her hands upon her hips.

"It was likely Fergus," Molly replied to Elspeth. After all, her sister-in-law was no fool – few lied to Elspeth and got away with it.

Like lightning, Elspeth smacked both Lenore and Fergus' hand. "You two act your bloody age. Maggie's upstairs more ill than ever, the birthday boy is playing kings and bloody knights in the living room with a branch he found, Elizabeth is playing 'hide and scare' where she keeps hiding and then jumping out at me, and Dawn is toddling all over."

Lenore winced at her cousin's stressed appearance and rant. The children were being a handful today for Alexander's birthday party and her mother was here to attend, but she was too ill to leave the washroom at the moment. "Sorry Elspeth."

"Fergus and I will watch the children," Molly said sighed. "Come along, Ferg."

Fergus rolled his eyes – he had always hated following orders – and headed towards the sitting room.

"Is there anything I can do, cousin?" she asked when it was just the two of them.

"Yes," Elspeth sighed distractedly as her busy hands began organizing several pots. "I just remembered that I forgot to pick up the cake that you ordered from the baker. Hmm. Could you pick it up, please, before Edgar, Ennis, and their wives arrive?"

"Of course, Elspeth."

Lenore bundled up in her woolen outer garments and began the snowy, yet for once not windy, trek to the bakery. It was certainly times like these that she really wished she lived in California again – too bad that no one would be discovering it for another hundred years or so.

Although, on the plus side, if they had discovered California by now then at least she would be able to afford the travel arrangements.

Mr. Hartford's visit back in November had been a fortuitous one – and one that she certainly knew had come by the grace of God. Apparently her no-good husband had been good for something – his family tree. Within the last year a branch of his tree had passed due to dueling, illness, or by accident, and his uncle – the Lord Cornelius O'Connor, Baron of Summerford – was left without any children to pass his estate to. Connor O'Neil, named after his maternal uncle, had been the only remaining member of the family. Even though Connor had passed – into a fiery inferno – the estate had gone to Lenore.

However, while Lenore was immensely thankful to not have to worry about money anymore she certainly did not enjoy being called a 'Baroness' or 'Lady Lenore'. It felt quite…strange. She was unworthy of such a title, if she were to be honest.

Lenore laughed softly and turned her focus back onto the road, where the path was thick with snow and the air was masked with thick flakes. Here life was truly strange and she supposed the she should start getting used to it. Reincarnation, witch, prophetess – what was next? Should she try to invent electricity? Or perhaps Post-Its?

Hmm – now the latter was not a bad idea…

Still giggling to herself, she almost did not hear a crunching in the snow – like the sound of something heavy walking through the drifts. Her blood pressure spiked, but she took a calming breath and maintained an at-ease demeanor. Lenore's ears strained against the howling of the wind and her narrowed eyes peered through the scarves wrapped around her head (quite honestly, if she didn't want Alexander to have a fabulous sixth birthday party there would be no way that she would walk outside in this foul weather). Then she subtly reinforced the magical shields around herself, enough so that she would be protected by a sudden attack yet not enough to draw attention.

There was something out there. She heard its footsteps thickly crunching through the soft packing snow off the road. Its steps were at least ten feet behind her, yet otherwise keeping an even speed with her steps.

She swallowed thickly. A dark power lay curled in the air, like a jungle cat tensed on shadowy branches as it calculated its prey's movements before uncurling in a whip of death. Once isolated to just her right, now she felt it on both sides – it was flanking her, like warriors who thirsted to completely wipe out their opponent.

Lenore's breathing heightened. There was something _off_ about what existed out there – it reminded her of the feelings she had gotten during Sunnydale patrols.

Demons.

The crunching to her right stopped and Lenore called upon her great powers to shield her from the predator that she knew was flying through the air. Then, from a power outside of hers, there was a flash of light, a terrifying scream of pain that abruptly ended, and then another black movement lunging for the white force.

Conditioned by Sunnydale, even if it was only a memory to her now, Lenore jumped forward and crouched out of sight behind a mound of snow. Her eyes, shadowed with worry, peeked nervously over the snow. Twenty feet off she saw – although they were moving almost too quickly to honestly comprehend – Castiel fighting a creature of human appearance. The demon – for she knew it was not a human – had dark skin that contrasted starkly against the falling snow and dreadlocks that whipped around her head as she pirouetted away from the angel. Castiel carried a gleaming silver sword that shone like the moon underneath the clouded sky, but with the way he wielded the sword it appeared more like a shooting star.

The demon was graceful – a convoluted movement of long limbs and torso – and she easily evaded the sword, unlike her fallen comrade whose blond decapitated head was barely visible underneath the snow. Yet her grace was still not enough to deliver a blow to the angel and within minutes she allowed a window of opportunity and the deed was done. Her head – with glassy eyes that defied death even in its moment of greeting – spiraled off of her neck and landed with a wet smack in front of Lenore.

The gag reflex was immediate but Lenore managed to hold the contents of her stomach. One would have thought demon fighting in Sunnydale would have hardened her, but her twenty-eight years of life here had softened her instead. Shaking with the adrenaline that had not yet realized her 'flight or fight' moment had passed, she looked up into Castiel's clear blue eyes. He was suddenly in front of her, helping her up, and then making the bodies of the demons disappear with a snap of his fingers.

"You should not be outside. It is too dangerous," he informed her in his gruff voice. His manner of speaking reminded her of a man long used to battle; a man whose very life was lived in the garrisons.

Shaking herself slightly, she gathered her wits. "Dangerous – that's a bit of an understatement. What were those things?" she asked in a hushed voice; almost as if she were afraid someone would overhear her speaking of such madness.

"Vampires."

An incredulous snort of laughter passed her lips. "I know vampires. They turn to dust and are _definitely_ not that powerful. So let's try that again – what were those creatures?"

Castiel sighed and for the first time she saw his shoulders sag with an unspoken burden. "The vampires that you know of do exist, yes. These that you just witnessed are often called vampires because they live off blood. However, they are an old race of demons; a very powerful race. Their numbers have dwindled significantly but their existence is still known in certain parts of the world."

Lenore took a deep breath and then focused at the task on hand. "Okay, so they're not real vampires—"

"—Technically at one point in the past one of these demons had an unholy union with a human, and the vampire that you know of was born," Castiel explained in a way that reminded her of her freshmen history professor who loved to lecture more than teach.

"O-kay," she nodded. "And why were they attacking me?"

His face was stoic but Lenore noticed a subtle stiffening of his posture. "Do not worry. You are my charge and I will protect you." Then Castiel grabbed her arm, she heard the sound of fluttering wings, and suddenly she was standing outside of Elspeth's house again. "Stay inside until I tell you it's safe."

Castiel made a movement to leave but Lenore yanked onto his arm. "Hey! You can't just pull a Harry Potter and pop me over here! I need to pick up Alexander's birthday cake!"

"Who is Harry Potter?" Castiel asked in confusion.

"That's not the point," she huffed. "It's Alexander's birthday and I need to pick up his cake from the bakery."

"Ah, yes. I know of that tradition," he nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, good. Then you know how important it is," Lenore said slowly. "So can I go get the cake now?"

"No," he shook his head. "It is too dangerous."

Lenore made sure to keep a hold onto his arm so he couldn't flutter away. "Okay, then how about you pop me over there and then pop me back. Okay?"

Castiel looked up to the heavens – whether he was questioning her request or silently asking why God had given her to him, she didn't know. Finally, he nodded and fulfilled her request. When they had returned again to Elspeth's house she quickly asked a question before letting go of his arm.

"Castiel, please. Why were those demons after me?"

"It would be best if you didn't have to worry, Prophetess. Please continue with your writing and I will keep you safe."

Lenore frowned. This was getting frustrating. After all, she wasn't a shy girl with a stutter named Tara anymore, nor an only mildly powerful witch who lacked knowledge about the darkness of the world. She was shiny and new – something different, something more. Lenore was now a combination of both of her lives and while she often struggled with distinguishing certain things, she was powerful in both magic and knowledge now. She deserved to know.

"Castiel, please don't go all 'Angel' on me with the cryptic messages", she chided as she remembered funny stories from Willow. "I need to know these things, to keep my family safe."

Castiel closed his eyes and the smallest of sighs escaped his lips. "I have my orders, Lenore. I am sorry."

Then he was gone.

* * *

_Liberton, Scotland  
April 30, 1701_

"Len, what's wrong?" Fergus' voice cut through the extended silence of their meeting.

Lenore's eyes shifted down to her hands that she had folded primly on the table; they were now slick with sweat and she rest them instead on her thighs. Clearing her throat, she looked around the magical room hidden in Elspeth's cellar and made quick eye contact with both her brother and her cousin. She had called them in for a meeting and this was the most private room for the talk that she was about to give. Since it was just one meeting with no magic involved, Elspeth did not dispute Fegus' presence in the room that she had long ago declared off-limits to him.

"This is something that Elspeth knows a little of, but I am afraid that I have been keeping another secret from you, brother," she hesitantly began.

His eyes were more alert at those words and as she began to tell him about her past life, Castiel, and her nights spent writing prophecies, his eyes grew in surprise and he leaned forward in interest. Eventually she came to the crux of the matter but apprehension made her pause in her speech. This was not a conversation that she wanted to have and she knew the moment that she told her family the whole truth her life would change.

"Okay, so you're a bloody prophetess – what of it?" her brother, unsure of what the big deal was, commented with a shrug. "Seems to me like you've done well with this deal, Len. Look at you now! Wealth, a title – what more could you want?" he asked in a voice that subtly betrayed the envy that he felt.

Elspeth just remained silent as she rested her chin upon steepled fingers. "I reckon if things were going smoothly then Lenore wouldn't 'ave called us down here, Fergus," she said softly as she focused on her younger cousin.

Now her brother's eyes narrowed as he looked at her in surprise; Lenore had been careful to pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary and only Elspeth knew of everything she was going through.

"The day of Alexander's birthday, when I ran out to get the cake, I was attacked by two demons." Lenore looked up to judge the faces of her family. Elspeth knew of the attack and it was no surprise to her, but what Lenore would be saying next would be news to the woman. Fergus paled considerably and she saw his fingers clench around the edges of the table.

"Demons? What kind of demons? And what did they want with you?" he asked in a tight, worried voice.

She laid her hand upon his. "They're a form of vampire. Since then they've been after me but thus far Castiel, my guardian angel, has protected me from them. I don't know why they are after me but I assume it has to do with my prophecies – after all, I do write mostly about vampires."

"Can this Castiel fellow keep protecting you?" Fergus asked.

Lenore chewed her lip nervously. "He came to me last night and said that the forces of darkness are planning to converge here, in Liberton. He promised that he could protect me but that he would be likely unable to protect anyone else…and that if I don't leave you all are in danger."

There was a beat of silence before both of them erupted.

"Well, we're witches, aren't we? Gon' take quite a bit o' effort for them fanged bastards to get us!" Elspeth snarled protectively as her clenched fist hit the table.

"But what if you leave – and they still come?" Fergus questioned in concern. "How can we kill these bastards for good?" There was something about his question that made Lenore think he was interested in something more than just killing the vampires that were after her.

Lenore held up her hand for silence. "I don't want to leave – I don't. But I don't see any other way. If something were to happen to the children…well, I couldn't bear it," she held back a repressed shudder. "Likewise, if anything were to happen to the both of you.

"As for what will happen when I leave, I assume that they will follow, Fergus. If not, Elspeth and the coven would be able to hold any creatures off as long as they stay here, within the walls of the coven home."

Elspeth grabbed her hand tightly. "Lenore, I do not like this plan. I have a bad feeling about it."

Lenore kept her emotions in check, but a large part of her wanted to fall into her cousin's arms as she had when she was a child. Now that her mother had passed from illness in March – after the death of her husband Angus she really didn't have much of a desire to live – Elspeth was the only mother figure she had left. She placed her hand against her cousin's cheek and exhaled deeply. "Elspeth, you laid out the Temperance card for me, where it showed an angel protecting me against the Devil. I am sure Castiel will care for me."

Elspeth placed her hand over Lenore's and sighed as well. "The cards can always be read incorrectly, my dear. What if he cannot?"

"Then I have been blessed not to live just one life, but two," she smiled gently as she looked from Elspeth to Fergus. "And that I have been blessed with an abundance of love and family in this second life.

"Besides," she added, "once this vampire threat has passed – trust me, vamps have small attention spans – I will return. This separation will not be permanent."

Lenore ignored the part of her that said otherwise. The deep, gnawing fear that something would go wrong with Castiel's plan. However, her devotion to her family had made her decision for her last night – she could not put them in danger's path. Already she had done so more times than she would have liked these past three months.

"And who will care for the children? And where will you be going?" her ever-so logical and strategic brother asked as his expressions shifted into something unreadable.

"Elspeth…if you would accept, I was wondering if you would care for the children as your own – and Fergus, if you would help?" Lenore hesitantly asked. She hated putting burdens on others but she knew this was the best case scenario.

Elspeth smiled and shook her head at Lenore. "Don't be daft, girl. Of course I'll look after the children; they're like my own grandchildren they are."

"Fergus?" she asked as she turned towards her brother. His head was bowed and she could see sweat forming at his temple, above his thinning black hair. Her brother was only thirty-nine but it seemed of late that something – his demon deal, perhaps? – was weighing heavily upon him.

He turned dark brown eyes towards her and frowned slightly. "Of course I will, Len. I'll do what I can…for as long as I am able."

She read his face at that moment and a piece of her heart broke off in response. He had the eyes of a man standing upon the gallows, waiting for his execution and sorrow was etched in face. Lenore realized that while she knew that her brother had sold his soul to a demon she didn't know just how long Fergus had before that demon reclaimed what was his.

Lenore blinked back a tear – her brother hated weakness and pity, after all – and nodded with a jerk of her head. "Thank you, Fergus," she said softly.

He gave her a soft smile and Lenore felt rage bubble within her at the thought that something was going to hurt her brother. As soon as she was able, she would start researching how to get a soul back from a demon deal. Thanks to her past life's knowledge, she had a great deal more resources at hand and figured there had to be _something_ out there.

Elspeth sighed heavily and spoke her next words slowly, as if she was protesting the fact that they needed to be said at all. "So when do you leave?"

* * *

_Summford Manor  
Falkirk, Scotland  
June 21, 1701_

"More tea, my lady?" Magdalene, her favorite servant, asked her with a bow of her head.

Lenore turned away from the grand oak writing desk that she used for writing prophecies and smiled at the pretty eighteen-year old girl. She had thick copper hair that fell to her waist and that, along with her widow's peak and fair complexion, reminded her of a young Willow Rosenberg. Magdalene was the daughter of the manor cook and had grown up her whole life at Summerford. When Lenore had arrived many of the servants had given her a chilly reception – she was, of course, a mere commoner who had only received the title by luck – but Magdalene had been exceptionally kind.

Although, it may have been her resemblance to Lenore's long-lost lover that had softened Lenore towards the girl as well.

"Yes, Magdalene. Thank you."

Although Summerford was only a mere thirty miles away and the neighboring province of her family home, she had yet to see any family members in the last two months. While the journey would not be terrible on horseback, she just did not want to take her chances. The vampires were still after her and while she had not felt any nearby in the last two weeks it wasn't that long ago that she had felt Castiel fighting off a large group.

Of course, Castiel, her tight-lipped Guardian Angel, never got around to _telling_ her any of this however – Lenore always had to guess using her magical abilities. Apparently the angel had 'orders;' not to worry her and that meant not telling her a bloody thing.

Lenore sighed and went back to re-reading her letter from Elspeth and the children. The goodbye the night before the Festival of _Beltaine_ had nearly broken Lenore so completely that by the time Castiel had popped her over to Summerford she was sobbing uncontrollably. For his part her angel was utterly perplexed by her and, for the record, sucks at comforting a crying woman. The extent of his comfort was a couple pats on the back and a "Do not cry. It will all be better." Then when she had asked "Really?" he had shrugged and said "It will likely not…But isn't that what humans are supposed to say to one another in times of crisis?"

Needless to say, Lenore had _not_ been comforted by the eternal being.

But at least she had been keeping busy here. When she had received her inheritance she had put the solicitor in charge of the manor and servants until she was ready to leave Liberton. Once she had arrived a great deal of work awaited her – she never would have thought that a Baroness had it so rough!

On top of all that, her writings had been keeping her busy. It bothered her that her writings probably would not taken so long had Castiel not been adamant that she translate each prophecy into a difference language – apparently the angels wanted to make sure that her prophecies did not use the modern speech of the twentieth century and looked 'authentic'.

Just to spite them, she was awfully tempted to throw in something extra for the Master Resurrection prophecy, like "P.S.: Buffy, do not have sex with Angel – I don't care how much you think his undead body is hot!" or "P.S.: Xander – trust me when I say that summoning dancing demons is not a good idea."

Or even one like: "The Last Guardian of the Hellmouth shall arrive on the eve of the world, and she will wield wit and snappy comebacks as her Watcher merely cleans his glasses and sighs."

Lenore snickered. Oh yes, the temptation to do fun was certainly there. She could just imagine all of the befuddled tweed-wearing watchers analyzing the text and unable to properly understand those last lines. Ah well. Too bad she always was rather responsible. Besides, she was just about done with the final major prophecy – the one about the Key and Glory and the next ones on her to-do list were minor, like the second vampire with a soul.

Well, she had never heard of any prophecy like that but she did, more or less, like Spike and figured that if Angel got to have a prophecy than the platinum-haired Brit deserved one as well.

So she finished re-reading her letter and returned to finishing the Key prophecy for the rest of the night. Eventually, dusk fell and she looked at the cloudless night with a soft hum of resignation. Today was the Summer Solstice and she wished that she was back home with Elspeth – today was a powerful day for all good witches and an important celebration. However, it didn't feel right to celebrate here alone – especially with all the servants around. If they knew that she was a witch then they would surely rise against her.

Lenore heard a flutter of wings just then and turned around to face Castiel with a sigh. "Castiel. How may I help you?" she asked wryly, because every time he showed it was not to update her on the vampire situation or even explain it, it was always to check on her progress.

Castiel stood with unease near her unlit fireplace. His worried face was illuminated by the silver moonlight that shone through her window and the soft flickering of a single candle. As she examined him further she noticed that his hair was unkempt, his clothes in a disarray, and that his arm was bleeding.

"Dear…" Lenore successfully refrained from using God's name in vain in front of the angel. "What happened to you?"

"Danger looms," he stated in a gravelly voice that rolled over her with the weight of a boulder. "I miscalculated the vampires. It appears that they desire you more than we previously thought. I must take you to safety."

Lenore began breathing heavily as she listened to the clear words that cut fear into her. She glanced outside the window and then looked over her main first floor parlor. "Castiel, no more games. Tell me. What is going on?"

"There isn't _time_!" he rasped and she cowered for a moment against the authority in his voice before she mustered up her strength.

"There's _always_ time! I can't just leave these people for death!" she said with a wave of her hand. "Tell me – maybe I can help fight back."

Castiel shook his head. "No, you will not be able to do much. I have called forth my brethren, but few have vessels available to them at the moment; if they do, they are otherwise occupied. You and I cannot contain this army alone."

Her chest constricted painfully. "Army?" she whispered.

Castiel frowned and then sighed in a very human what-the-hell sort of way. "The Alpha is the one behind the plan to apprehend you. We think that he wants you because he has heard of your vampiric prophecies and wants you to give him your knowledge. He has been sending his minions – beginning with his powerful and very old lieutenant back in January – to test my defenses. Tonight he brings an army of at least thirty-five vampires."

"Thirty-five! Well, now that's not that bad," she quickly said as she drew herself up and began pacing. "Tonight is the Summer Solstice and fire spells come easily to witches today, of all days. Plus, you're an _angel_, Castiel. I've seen Buffy take on half a dozen vampires at a time – this should be nothing for you."

He sighed and his shoulders visibly sagged. "The Alpha accompanies his company tonight – he is the first of all vampires and incredibly powerful. His warriors, as well, are all much more powerful than the half-breeds you've dealt with. I…I do not think I will be able to fend them off as well as you think."

Lenore stilled as she listened to his soft-spoken words that fell like pebbles into a pool – they seemed to be just a small splash at first but quickly set off a chain reaction within her. Maybe Castiel was right – perhaps there was no way out alive tonight unless she left. But…

"If we leave now, then I will be running for the rest of my life," she managed to utter as her voice caught on her next words. "It would not take too long for this Alpha to kidnap my family and use that leverage against me."

Castiel turned and she caught his gaze – and saw regret in his eyes. "You are wise for a human, Lenore. It is true that that will probably happen." He stated his words in a factual tone but he derived no happiness from them. In fact, he looked like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"I have failed you."

"No," Lenore said quietly as she shook her head. She grabbed the angel's hand and squeezed it – never before had she touched him freely but it felt needed at the moment. "After all, I am not dead yet, am I?"

He gifted her with a weak – very weak – smile. "No, you are not. But you see, I was not the one originally assigned to your case and therefore am inadequate to properly protect you. You were not scheduled to remember your past life until your thirty-third birthday."

Lenore took a step back. "Scheduled?" She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her but Castiel continued, not noticing her negative reaction.

"Yes. You see, all prophets are placed under the care of an archangel. However, the other archangels already have charges that they are caring for and thus you fell to me. Throughout my existence I have served my Father faithfully and I have finally been awarded with the opportunity to protect the life of a human charge." Castiel sighed. "But I am unsure if I am powerful enough to protect you, Lenore – I am not as strong as my older brothers."

Lenore's eyes clenched shut as she felt a stab of betrayal run through her very soul. She had heard everything that Castiel had said, yes, but it was his first words that reverberated through her mind. "So I was not…scheduled…to remember anything until a certain age?"

Castiel looked at her in surprise, finally hearing the pain that laced her tone. "Why yes. Upon your thirty-third birthday one of the archangels, either Raphael or Michael, would have lifted the veil over your eyes and your memories would have returned." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Strange that the veil was lifted beforehand; powerful magic held it in place."

"So…you all toyed…with my mind?" Lenore questioned in a sharp tone as she struggled to find the necessary words. Castiel looked at her in surprise as she turned dark, accusing eyes towards him.

"Lenore, that is the way of things. It was not control, per say. We did that to better control the timeline and to ensure that an archangel could be assigned to you."

She raised an accusing finger in his direction. "But didn't you ever think about how maybe I deserved to know earlier? How I had dreamt of snatches of my past life for _years_ and nearly went mad from not knowing? How I longed to know the red-haired goddess that waited for me each night when I fell under the sandman's shadow?"

Castiel started to speak but she cut him off. "You all _used_ me! I can't believe this…I thought angels were supposed to care about people but all you care about is meeting your own ends. You tried to control me…like Willow did, like Glory did," Lenore finished in a softer voice.

"Lenore, please. That is not the way to look at it," Castiel said with a puzzled expression.

Lenore shook her head. It was clear that the expressionless angel would never understand the betrayal that she felt. Lenore – or rather, Tara – had her mind violated thrice before. Once when Glory sucked her sanity away and left her a mumbling mess, once when Willow had betrayed her by making her forget a fight, and once when Willow did a spell to make everyone momentarily forget who they were in an attempt to get out of a promise she had made.

No. She couldn't believe that the angels…that _God_...had chosen to make her suffer a fourth time.

A woman's scream pierced the silence just then, and Lenore ran to the window. The sight of a marching army of vampires attacking every human in their path made her gasp in fright. Castiel was right – there were many of them. At least thirty. "Castiel, I thought you said there were thirty-five. Where are the others?"

Castiel's brows furrowed in thought, but then he grunted in pain as a sword, now glistening with blood, hung through the front of his chest. Behind him was a cruel looking bald man with a smile that revealed rows or pointed teeth and hands that resembled talons with long, curved fingernails.

"Right here," he stated in a low and sinister as he motioned for the four vampires flanking him to run for her.

Dammit. Sunnydale should have taught her better about saying certain things out loud.

Castiel yanked the sword out his back and heaved it through the air to strike the commanding vampire – perhaps he was the Alpha? – but he was no where to be seen. Quickly Lenore created two balls of fire with a spell and flung them at the closest vampires. They screamed in agony as they began melting on the spot, but Lenore didn't have a moment to celebrate. Suddenly a female vampire yanked her arm _hard_ and she felt her shoulder dislocate with a pop. Luckily, Castiel beheaded her attacker and kicked the remaining vampire against the wall.

"Come," he said as he reached for her hand, likely intending to pop them far away, but a shadowy blur sped into him with the speed of a train. The manor shook from the impact as the two literally plowed through a section of her wall and fell into a heap five yards from the house.

"Castiel!" she screamed fearfully. Yes, she may be angry with the angel but in no way did she want to see him injured.

Dozens of vampires were running towards them now and six were already on top of Castiel; the seven of them were flashes of movement and swordplay. Lenore moved forward to help but a vampire – the one that Castiel had kicked – yanked her back.

"You're coming with us, Prophetess," he growled.

Lenore growled in response. These fanged bastards had forced her to leave her children and the rest of her family – if they thought she was going without a fight then they sure were wrong! "_Fuego_!" she shouted and the vampire screamed in surprised pain as flames rolled off of her and onto him.

She breathed in deeply. God, she could feel it calling to her, the primitive powers of the earth. Today was the longest day of the year, when the sun beat its fiery waves upon the earth for hours upon hours. She could feel all that energy just beneath the earth, waiting for her to use it. It _longed_ to be set free, to burn away this scourge upon the earth.

Taking deep breaths she concentrated and began lifting it up with her magic. Sparks of flame appeared over the land and she rolled them all together in a somersaulting ball of fire that she sent at the now twenty vampires that were attacking Castiel - even though he had already destroyed ten they seemed to have a neverending wave of new vampires ready to attack. As the fire came over the creatures, each vampire rolled into the flaming ball, like rolling packed snow, and screamed in earnest. Castiel flashed a grim smile and approached her wilting form – that spell had taken a considerable amount of energy. There were still vampires left but she hoped that she had bought them enough time to pop out of here.

Lenore gasped in pain as she felt something sharp rip through her forearm. Looking down she saw that her arm had been delivered a grievous wound and was bleeding generously.

"Lenore! Run!" Castiel shouted as he rushed towards her…but he didn't make it. A blinding flash of white light shot into the air and enveloped him greedily. By the time the light had faded, he was gone.

"C-castiel?" she asked shakily as her eyes scanned the space where he had been.

A low chuckle echoed through the nearly empty room. "He's gone, little Prophetess." Lenore looked at the speaker with trepidation, her body now shaking with fear. There, with his hand over a bloody symbol finger-painted onto the wall – made out of _her_ blood, she realized – was the bald vampire that had attacked them first. He smiled genially and walked slowly towards her, as if he had all the time in the world now. Fruitlessly, Lenore tried to summon more fire, but her magic was spent. Considering that she was losing a good deal of blood and her shoulder was dislocated, Lenore had no chance of fighting him off.

When the vampire pounced onto her with his rows of flashing teeth she quickly thanked God for the memories of her past life and the life she had led in this time.

Then there was just mind-shattering pain and she was no longer capable of thought.

* * *

**A/N:**

This chapter took a while to write…because the sad moments always take me a while to get around to writing…

Anyways, review please? :)

_References_  
**Imagine my surprise when there really *was* a location named Summerford in Scotland! Ha. Check out Google: .com/maps?hl=en&tab=wl  
** Beltaine—Seasonal holiday of the Celts. Celebrated the renewal of life aka Spring. Then it got incorporated into May Day and then it got more so Christianized.


	9. Enslaved to the Devil

**Enslaved to the Devil**

**A/N:**

Warning: Sexual Assault (not very graphic, though.)

* * *

_Unknown location,  
July 1, 1701_

Flames licked at the inside of her stomach walls and Lenore screamed as she curled into a ball on the dirty floor of her jail cell. Nausea bubbled up her throat and she began to violently dry heave. Curled on her side, clad in nothing, the cold stone floor grated irritably against her bare skin as she convulsed. Dozens of small, sharp incisors erupted through her gums and she whined like a beaten dog from the pinpricks of pain that announced the arrival of her fangs. Her arms were curled protectively over her stomach but her touch gave her no relief – she was not suffering from a mere stomachache like a child who had eaten one too many sweets.

The bloodlust was upon her.

She had been in this prison for days at least, tossed in after the Alpha vampire had mercilessly bitten her. Lenore had thought that she would be fine – after all, in Sunnydale there was a 'whole big sucking thing', according to Buffy, that began a vampiric transformation. Sadly, she was wrong. These demons could infect with a mere bite and the change had taken Lenore swiftly.

At first her senses increased – she could easily hear her guards discussing someone named 'Aurelius' all the way past her cell walls and down the hall. Then her eyes were able to focus steadily in the pitch black darkness of her cell, allowing her to see the spider that made a corner of the ceiling its home and the splatters of blood against the wall. Then she had been able to smell the tangy scent of dried blood most acutely, and her fangs had sprung from her gums – most unlike the Sunnydale vampires.

Since then she had fallen into madness.

Her captors, the two olive-skinned vampires who guarded her cell, had repeatedly tried to offer her food but she had vigorously denied. The scent of fresh blood had been tempting, oh god ever so tempting, but there was no way that Lenore would bite into the live bodies that they were providing.

She would not be a killer.

Her strong will was strengthened by memories of her past life as Tara. She had known two vampires that lived off animal blood, Angel and Spike, and she was determined that she would do the same. Of course, her real reason for not feeding on humans was her Willow. It would sicken her former lover to think that Lenore had killed humans and therefore she would abstain from their blood.

Because now, even as so many aspects of her life lay shrouded in shadows, a beacon of hope had emerged for Lenore. While she mourned the loss of her humanity and despised her weakness for blood, she realized that God – in a very twisted way – had given her a chance to see her Willow again.

Had Lenore remained human she would have died, probably in thirty years or so if she were lucky, and never met Willow until perhaps the afterlife. But now? _Now_ Lenore was immortal. She could – and would – live until the year 2003. At the moment of her – Tara's – death, Lenore would swoop in and show Willow that, in a way, she was still alive. They could be together again!

It was that one hope that kept her sanity intact and kept the bloodlust at bay.

* * *

_Unknown location,  
August 2, 1701_

Lenore faintly heard the scrapes of footsteps over the stone floor but she didn't have the energy to turn her head to see who had arrived. Her body lay prostrate on the floor, sprawled face-up in the middle of her cell. As before she was still nude and malnourished but now her body was weakening to the point of death. Her dehydrated skin had tightened around her bones until she resembled a skeleton. She could feel her cells feeding off her own body in an attempt to provide enough nutrients to survive. Each time she moved it was painful, as if her body was shouting in anger at her foolishness to take human blood, to take a life.

But Lenore wouldn't. She _couldn't_. Not only would Willow hate her but she would hate herself. After fighting monsters for so long she refused to become one herself.

Yet…there was a small part of her…a part that grew more insistent with each day of bloodlust…that said it would be okay. That maybe she could just kill the evil humans, if nothing else. Because…she could feel it…she would die if she didn't feed. And if she died, she would never see Willow again.

Her mind was decaying further with each moment of hunger that she had. Sometimes she was coherent. Other times she was not. Her world was fiery hot pain that felt as if she had plunged into the depths of an active volcano and began drowning in the molten, churning lava. She didn't know which way was up or which was down, just that she was lost in the pain.

"Lenore," a low, almost gentlemanly voice said in a chiding tone. "I left to ensure that angel of yours could not follow us and now that I've returned I've been told that you refuse to feed."

Lenore wanted to speak, to tell the Alpha to drop dead, but she knew it was useless. Her tongue was drier than sand, and tasted like it to. However, she did manage one grunt of anger to answer him with.

The Alpha made a soft humming noise as if he was analyzing her. "I felt you try to use magic to get out of your new home in the beginning, you know. Did you wonder why it did not work?"

Why yes, she did. Lenore had been perplexed that she had been unable to access her magic. However, she wasn't telling _him_ that…even if she could speak.

"I am your Maker, and not just your Maker but the Alpha of all vampires. I have a psychic connection with each of my children, you know. It is very simple to hide that magic from you." She could hear the smile in his voice. God, how she hated him.

"Now, my dear, I need you to feed," he sighed as his voice sounded closer to her…almost as if it were in her very mind. "The transformation will only be complete if you feed, otherwise you will die soon."

Good. Let her die.

Wait, did she mean that? But what about Willow?

Well, what about her? Willow had tried to control her, just like the angels had. She couldn't be trusted; she didn't truly love her.

No, she did. Willow was her true love, her sun. Tara revolved around her.

Except she wasn't Tara. Not really. She was Lenore. And Lenore had never met her. Lenore couldn't _eat_ a person just so that she could meet Willow in three-hundred years. Imagine all those people that Lenore the Vampire would need to eat in the meantime.

But…you only need to eat _one_ person. Then you can do the pig's blood deal like Angel and Spike.

And if she lived? Would Willow even _want_ Lenore? Would she still love her even if she were a demon? No one wanted Buffy to date Angel or even date Spike…would they want Willow to date her? No, Lenore was no longer worthy for Willow.

But Willow loved her madly. She would still love her. Hell, Willow had dated a werewolf!

A fresh scent wafted under Lenore's nose and she sniffed several times. Oh god. Another human. It smelled delectable. Her fangs shot out of her gums forcefully and saliva swelled in her mouth. It was so strange how the scent of human blood could make Lenore so hungry – it was sweeter than the smell of freshly iced cake and she instinctively knew that it would be thicker than wine and fall smoothly down her throat, coating her insides with pleasure and ecstasy and god, the smell was so good and would it really be so bad if she were to bite?

"My Lady!" an aghast voice called out, her shrill voice hurting Lenore's sensitive ears. "Are you alright? I've been kept prisoner since that night but I had no idea you were here as well until the man took me down here. He said that I had to take care of you, that you were sick. Are you alright, my Lady? What can I do for you?"

Lenore did not need to open her eyes to know who was now clutching her hand tightly. She knew Magdalene's voice well, but now she realized what a deliciously soft voice the girl had. And she babbled! How very Willow of her…

Her head was in the servant girl's lap and Lenore felt a salty tear drop onto her forehead. "Oh Jesus, my Lady. Please tell me you're alive. Wake up!" she commanded through a tear-soaked voice as she gently shook Lenore.

Unfortunately, she shaking was awaking her, alright…awakening her primal response. She wanted to _lunge_ at the girl and rip her neck open and lap up the blood with her tongue and then cover herself with the life-giving liquid…

Lenore opened her eyes and used all of her resources to rasp out, "Leave!"

Magdalene's pretty green eyes – a pale jade unlike Willow's darker shade – widened in surprise. "Not without you, my lady. I swore to serve the family of Summerford Manor. I shan't leave you."

Now Magdalene was laying Lenore gently on the floor and took off her overshirt so that Lenore would have a pillow. God, Lenore wanted her to leave. The scent was…intoxicating. She tried to call upon one of the meditations that she had been using since her capture but nothing came to her mind but the sweet smell of blood.

Her servant bent low over her and gently cupped Lenore's cheek. "My Lady, tell me what I can do for you."

Lenore's eyelids fluttered open and when she breathed the full scent of Magdalene's life filled her nostrils and slid heavily down her throat. The girl's face was only a few inches from her own, looking at her with such a caring face, and Lenore found her bony hand creeping up to slide behind the girl's neck. Magdalene was so sweet, so caring; gentle as a lamb.

But lambs were meant to be eaten and by God Lenore was so hungry and her stomach convulsed at the sweet temptation of a meal and her mouth filled with the scent and she just knew that it would be so warm and Lenore was so cold and she needed that warmth, needed it more than anything she had ever needed before. More than her children, more than Willow. It was a _Need_. Ancient. Primal.

Her hand moved of its own accord and slammed Magdalene down with an unknown strength. The girl's neck rested in front of Lenore's face and she savagely bit in. Distantly she heard screaming but the blood – oh _God_ the Blood! – filled her with such undulating waves of ecstasy that Lenore's mind was carried out of that room and someplace else. She saw wild plains with thick grass that could hide a predator. Animals roamed free and small fires burned vividly under a star-filled night. Huddled around the fire were humans, simple barbaric creatures who glanced suspiciously into the darkness behind them, knowing that she was there but praying to whatever deity they believed in that they would be saved. But while they were praying she was preying and she snatched the largest human away from the safety of the village and fed with gluttony like a savage animal. Yes, she despised these humans but they were of use to her.

They were food.

* * *

_Lair of the Order of Aurelius  
Belfast, Ireland  
February 3, 1702_

Bloated with human blood, Lenore sank down onto the bed that she shared with Aurelius. The sun was high in the sky and while it did not affect her kind, it still weakened them. Luckily their home was underground and thus far away from the sun. Thick tapestries depicting demons and human sacrifices colorfully decorated the walls of their twenty by thirty foot richly decorated bedroom, plus they insulated the wall and kept her warm. Although she was still a living, heart-beating being unlike the half-breed vampires, she often found herself colder than others. If a human's temperature was ninety-eight point six degrees than her kind was likely two degrees cooler. Imperceptible to most, but not to a supernatural being.

That was just one of the changes in her life now. The others were that Lenore was strong, very strong, and incredibly fast, especially after a feeding. Her senses were excellent. Unlike the other half-breed vampires that were common in this world, she did not require an invitation to enter a house, was not allergic to crosses, and was incredibly hard to kill (only a beheading would be sufficient). However, she had a new weakness – dead man's blood. If she drank the blood of a dead man she would severely weaken, if left alone she would be easy for even a human to kill.

Lenore pulled the covers over her head and yawned as she began to feel the drowsiness of the day take hold of her. While she could go for days without sleeping if she needed to it was preferable that she sleep at least four hours a day, or seven if she had time.

The door clicked open and she realized that Aurelius had entered. Automatically her limbs stiffened and she prayed that he would leave. Hadn't he done enough to her for one day?

"Lenore," his voice murmured softly as he lightly stroked her thigh. "Have you had any visions recently?" The voice of the Alpha Vampire was cultured and smooth, so unlike what she had heard the day she was attacked.

Lenore yanked the covers off her head and shot him a heated glare. "Not since the one about the Anointed One last month," she snapped irritably.

Aurelius, also known as the Alpha of their kind, thirsted for all the knowledge that he knew she could bring him. Quickly after her transformation in August he had set about coaxing prophecies out of her. At first she had refused because she did not want to give him any information that could harm Buffy or the others, but then she realized that she could truthfully (because he could always smell a lie) tell him prophecies in a way that would not hurt Buffy.

So she began by telling him of the Master vampire who will claim his seat on the Mouth of Hell and recently she told him of the Anointed One. Of course, she was careful to pretend that they were random prophecies and not figments of her past life – that would result in Aurelius torturing her to get ever last drop of information out of her. At the same time, she also had to be cautious to space her prophecies out; if she ran out then he may have her killed.

Not that a part of her didn't want to die already, though.

Each night Aurelius or one of his cronies forced human blood down her throat against her will; not since Lenore's ruthless and crazed murder of Magdalene had she harmed another of her own free will. It disgusted her, this monstrous behavior. But worse, she was disgusted by her own weakness – that she _loved_ the taste of the blood. It didn't make her ill, it made her feel fabulous. It was only afterwards, seeped in guilt, that she felt sick about her actions.

Once again, it was only the hope that she would someday break out of here and see Willow that kept Lenore going. If only Aurelius had not used his mind control - _why_ must this be Lenore's Achilles' Heal constantly? – then maybe she would be able to access her magic and escape. Unfortunately, she was powerless. Without magic she was just another fledgling vampire and no match for any of the guards here or, especially, Aurelius himself.

Speaking of which, the Alpha vampire sighed heavily as he tore the quilt off of her and began stroking the lines of her body in a seductive manner. "Come now, Lenore. Surely you are powerful. The angel would not have been sent to watch over you otherwise. Tell me, what do you see?"

Lenore shrank away from him. From an objective perspective, one could consider Aurelius lovely to look at – he was powerfully built with thick curvaceous lips and dark lustrous skin that shined brilliantly under candle light – but his presence sickened Lenore. He had claimed her to be his mistress – not his mate, however, since vampires mated for life and _thank God_ she wasn't going to be stuck with him for that long – quickly after she had transformed and now spent almost every night he was at the Lair with her.

It was like Connor O'Neil all over again. As with her husband she was forced – and Aurelius beat if she didn't – perform 'wifely duties'. Just as Elspeth's tarot reading had shown, the Devil had a chain around her neck and she was his slave in all ways.

Aurelius began fondling her right breast and when she tried to jerk away his eyes lit up as he twisted to keep her still. "Lenore, really," he scoffed. As if she a fool to continue to struggle against him.

She knew it was coming and that she wasn't strong enough to fight back. Therefore, she resorted to a card up her sleeve.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began convulsing violently on the bed – imitating the perfect prophecy so the bastard would leave her damn well alone.

_

* * *

_

_Lair of the Order of Aurelius  
Belfast, Ireland  
September 3, 1703_

Their underground cavern was lit with blazing torches that were adhered to the wall. The shadows of forty vampires – five who were half-breeds and the others who were like her – played along the stone walls. At the far end of the circular room sat a mighty throne carved out of granite and polished until it shimmered faintly under the firelight. It was as silent as a graveyard – a graveyard during a hunt but not after, of course. Vampires could be sloppy eaters and rather noisy.

"Who is it that seeks an audience with me?" Aurelius called out in a formal tone.

"It is I, your most loyal and humble servant, my Lord. I come to bring you goods from America, the new land," a man with a rough voice spoke reverently as he bowed before the Alpha vampire. Behind him a small blond vampire, a hulking blond vampire, and two dark-haired male vampires bowed their heads respectfully.

"Arise, Heinrich," Aurelius boomed with a carefree gesture. "Tell me, what riches lie in the colonies?"

Heinrich stood up and Lenore, standing to Aurelius' left side, frowned in distaste. The vampire possessed a terrible visage to behold – his skin was wrinkled and pale with pointed ears sticking out of his bald head. Without a doubt she knew this man had to be the Master that she had heard so much about.

"A new world full to people to eat," Heinrich grinned widely, showcasing his sharp teeth, as everyone laughed. "They have a different breed of humans there called 'Indians' that have thick honey-like blood that runs hot. I brought several of them for you to enjoy, my Lord," he said with another bow of his head.

Aurelius smiled wickedly and clapped his hands twice. "Excellent, Heinrich. As always, you are a shining star among the half-breeds that plague this earth. I wish that others would share your passion for order and servitude towards serving the Old Ones."

In response the other vampire just bowed his head in thanks.

"Now, who are the other members of your party?"

Heinrich introduced them to be James, Ewan, Luke, and…Darla? Lenore began coughing as the vampire-soon-to-be-known-as-the-Master introduced Angel's future sire and the known madwoman. Aurelius threw her a glare so she quickly recovered from her surprise and then watched the new group closely.

In the last year or so she had quickly learned that Aurelius was not only the Alpha vampire for all of their demonic breed, but a politician or regal figure of some sort to all half-breeds as well. Most of their kind looked down at the half-breeds who were often stupid and easy to kill, but with some powerful ones Aurelius embraced their existence. No one had directly told Lenore, but she had figured it out – their breed was dying off. It was getting harder to hide from humans and their numbers had never been large to begin with. But the half-breeds, although weak, expanded like guppies throughout the world. Their numbers were great and thus Aurelius made sure to form partnerships that world benefit him, and his kind.

Once the tiresome display of sucking up was over with, Aurelius began to tell Heinrich his own news – news that he was quite excited about and that she unfortunately had a part to play in it.

"Lenore, step forward and bring the book," Aurelius ordered with a superior flick of his hand.

Lenore followed orders from this bastard only because there was no other option – not even death because Aurelius would never let his pet prophetess leave him. She presented the book to Heinrich, who accepted it reverently.

"This book contains my writings and the prophecies of Lenore, Heinrich. I give it to you as a gift in honor of your servitude and hope that it will serve you well," Aurelius explained.

Heinrich smiled and Lenore shrank back from the sight of his fangs protruding over his non-existent lips. "Thank you, my Lord." He cast a sidelong look at Lenore and then looked back to his master. "I had heard that you acquired a prophetess, my Lord. May I offer my congratulations at such a fine acquisition?"

Aurelius leaned forward and smiled broadly and his clawed fingers clung to the sides of his exquisitely carved throne. "You may. Thank you, Heinrich. Yes, she was a marvelous find – a true Prophetess of the Lord," he smirked. "You should have seen the angel's face right before we stole her from him and expelled him back to Heaven."

The entire room began laughing but Lenore remained silent; her tensed shoulders were the only sign that she found their so-called master's words distasteful. She swore that she would get her revenge on this beast one day.

* * *

_Lair of the Order of Aurelius  
Belfast, Ireland  
September 4, 1703_

Almost the entire Order was out hunting at the moment, which was an unusual circumstance. Typically only a few vampires hunted for all of them a night, much like packs of lions operated, but tonight Aurelius wanted to celebrate Heinrich's last night in Belfast before the twisted-looking vampire took his flock to recruit in Eastern Europe. Therefore the only occupants of the lair were Lenore and two guards to watch over her – Aurelius, of course, did not trust that she wouldn't try to escape.

Lenore had, actually, attempted to escape half a dozen times already in the last two years or so but each attempt had failed. Due to the psychic connection that Aurelius had with their entire breed, since he was the Alpha, he could easily find them if he desired, in addition to being able to suppress her magic. She was sure that there _had_ to be a way to sever the connection between her Maker but she had yet to discover it. Even if she did discover it she knew that magic would be involved and without her ability to tap into the earth's magic she would have no way to work the severing spell.

It was indeed a conundrum.

Lenore settled comfortably at the desk in her shared room with Aurelius – although she despised the creature she was pleased to at least have her own private room when he wasn't around, unlike everyone else who shared two large rooms with beds of straw. Pulling out her sketchbook she began sketching Willow's face just to pass the time. Thus far she had filled dozens of sketchbooks of Willow drawings; it was her only solace here. As time went on a sweet smell filled her nostrils – she smelled honey cakes. Perplexed she stood up from her desk and sniffed carefully. Aurelius did not allow the other vampires any human examples of decadence (even if he very hypocritically kept some for himself) and no vampire would have brought human sweets into the lair. What was it?

Her nose led her to the nightstand on her side of the bed. Curiously, she pulled open the single drawer and peered inside in surprise. Typically she did not keep anything in here but suddenly there were several items. Glancing suspiciously about, Lenore carefully pulled the drawer out and set it on her bed. Cautiously she pulled out each item and inspected it – there was a vial of blood, a dried Forget-Me-Not flower, several bags of herbs, and a small dagger no larger than a letter opener that bore the etchings of strange geometric symbols on the blade. Underneath all of this was a piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn out of a blank sketchbook in a hurry.

_Lenore,_

If you want to escape, drug Aurelius with the Dead Man's Blood. This will weaken him severely, as it is hundreds of years old, and he will lose his hold over suppressing your magic. Then, complete this spell. It will sever your connection to him and free you from his hold.

After that, run like hell.

The note was unsigned but did carry instructions for the spell. However, the dried flower was not a spell ingredient, although the herbs and the dagger were. A ghost of a smile graced Lenore's face as she realized that the Forget-Me-Not was there to tell her the identity of her mysterious benefactor – Loki. After he had left her home three years ago – well, after she kicked him out – she had begun to feel a good deal of guilt for the way she had treated him. He had, in the end, helped her recover her memory. Even more so, he had given her the *choice* of deciding when to have her memories recovered, unlike the angels who had her on a 'schedule'.

Then again, if she had been on a schedule then an archangel would have been her guardian angel and she wouldn't be in her current mess anyways.

Ah, well. Fate was a tricky thing.

Lenore memorized the spell direction and prepared the ingredients in a bowl. Then she waited.

_

* * *

_

_Lair of the Order of Aurelius  
Belfast, Ireland  
September 5, 1703_

It was three in the morning and several hours had passed since the Order had gone hunting. Lenore had been waiting patiently, covering her unease with sketching, and was in the bedroom when Aurelius entered.

"Lenore, my little Prophetess," he smiled widely, proudly displaying his bloody teeth. "Have you missed me?"

Lenore cleared her mind of anything having to do with escape and shot back a quick retort. "No."

Laughter rumbled from deep in his belly as he approached her from behind and squeezed her upper arms. "You are young. Over time your silly sense of remorse will expire and you will truly become one of us."

"Release me, sir," she growled lowly as she set down her pencil.

Instead Aurelius plucked her up and tossed her onto the bed with great force. Quickly he climbed above her and tore off her threadbare top – the Order did not believe in wearing designer clothes and instead they all dressed worse than peasants. Lenore took in a shaky breath and struggled beneath him as he then whipped off his shirt and pants.

"Lenore," he spoke in a gruff voice as he ripped off the rest of her clothes. "You know you enjoy this."

Tears came to her eyes. She knew she had to leave and had the means to leave, but this moment wasn't right. She had to wait until he was completely unaware – Aurelius was too powerful to trick otherwise. "No, I don't!" she whimpered as he entered her roughly.

Aurelius, ever taking joy in taking her whenever he desired, threw his head back and laughed deeply as he clutched her hips in a tight vise. "I do. There is nothing like taking a Servant of the Lord and making them my whore."

Fury washed over her and she became filled with a different sort of bloodlust – one to murder and not to feed. As Aurelius began to pick up speed her hand slid underneath her pillow in a show of steadying herself, but instead she grasped something metallic and cold. Finally, Aurelius let out a satisfied grunt and as he began to collapse upon her, her new dagger caught him in the heart. Her Maker let out a short cry of pain, but it was nothing that his servants would notice since they assumed that the Alpha was raping her again.

Lenore quickly shoved him off of her and twisted the blood-coated dagger inside his chest. She was tempted to kill him but he was powerful and she didn't know how much longer she had before the Dead Man's blood wore off.

"Len…what did you…do?" he rasped, his breath bubbling up with blood.

"Interesting to see that even the Alpha vampire is affected by Dead Man's Blood – especially when it's shoved directly into your heart," she smiled coldly at him before retrieving her spell ingredients.

"You…bitch," he spat weakly.

Lenore growled lightly and cut her wrist with her fingernail in order to drip blood into the bowl. Then she ripped open Aurelius' forearm – in the exact same spot that he had cut her two years ago – and stole blood to pour into the bowl as well. With the dagger that was now dripping with Dead Man's Blood and her Maker's blood, she stirred the substances together.

Lenore summoned all of her power and magic just then and broke out into tears of happiness when she realized that it was no longer suppressed by the Alpha's dark magic. Finally, _finally_ she felt whole – her magic was a part of her again. Aurelius tried to say something to her but she silenced him by doing a quick spell to sew his lips shut. His eyes bulged in fright; he knew that she was reclaiming her power.

Focusing on the bowl in front of her, Lenore began to chant the spell that Loki had given to her.  
_  
"With blood of the Maker and blood of the Servant,  
Sever the Child from the Parent._  
After repeating the chant twenty-six times – one for each month she had been bound to him – the ingredients in the bowl lit with a bright blue fire. Lenore backed up in surprise and then had the peculiar sensation of an egg cracking over her and covering her in metaphysical protection. The ties to Aurelius that she had always felt in the back of her mind now vanished and for the first time in over two years Lenore let out a sigh of relief.

Two become one, one becomes two,  
Sever them without issue."

"I'm free," she whispered softly.

"Not-for-long," Aurelius grunted as he stood unsteadily to his feet.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore," she sneered at him. "In fact, I'm going to kill you," she added matter-of-factly as she summoned her magic to encompass her.

The door burst open in a terrifying display of splinters and revealed at least a dozen of her vampire vampires, including Darla. _Damn_. He must have had the strength to summon them all her psychically.

"Did you _really_ think that Dead Man's Blood would hold me for long, little Prophetess?" he chuckled darkly. "I am the beginning…and I am your end."

He leapt for her but she threw a blazing fireball at him, forcing him to be pushed back hard against the wall. Then she concentrated to extract a smaller ball of fire from the original and plowed through the row of waiting vampires in the doorway. Without hesitation she ran through the now-open pathway, past the screaming and burning demons, and began to make her way through the maze of underground caverns.

Lenore was soon panting, and it wasn't from the effort of running. She had not used magic in a very long time and doing two powerful spells – the severing spell and the fireball spell – in a row had taken a great deal out of her. However, she didn't have a choice; it was either that or die. Hopefully that fireball would effectively pin Aurelius to the wall long enough for her to leave but she still had to deal with the now thirty vampires searching for her.

When encountering some of them she dealt physical blows, in an attempt to store up her magic, but with others (like the Master) she had no choice but to use magic. The upkeep of her fire spells were tiring and her body was feeling sluggish but she kept running and running until she finally reached the stairs that led her out of the hellhole. As soon as she climbed up she breathed the fresh air in deeply and scanned her surroundings. She was in a forest surrounded by thick, tall trees – excellent. Lenore performed a successful severing charm that caused a nearby tree to collapse onto the entrance of the Order's lair.

For the first time in years she laughed– she may just make it out of this ordeal alive.

* * *

**A/N:**

First, full credit goes to AllenPitt for suggesting that the Alpha = Aurelius in order to better tie in some things. He's been feeding my muse like crazy through reviews & e-mails so I most heartily thank him and his twisted, delightful mind! :D

Second, this chapter was dark and creepy to write, especially when the bloodlust had taken hold of Lenore, but it was oddly one of my favorites to write (I 'spose I'm a bit twisted. Hee.). Please let me know what you think!


	10. Abomination

Abomination

_Liberton, Scotland  
September 25, 1703_

Twenty days. She had been on the run for twenty days from Aurelius and his Order. Lenore had used every trick in the book – breaking into a magic shop to steal ingredients for a spell that would mask her scent (her breed of vampires primarily hunted by scent), sleeping only an hour a night at most, and finally she led her tracks to Galway and bought a ticket to an American ship under the close eye of Sarah, one of Aurelius' main lieutenants that had successfully tracked her that far. Heinrich, the Master had been sent onto that ship with Darla and several others; it was her hope that they believed she had decided to hide in America.

However, Lenore was no fool. No creature was craftier than the Alpha and he would still be searching for her with a fiery intensity that threatened to burn her to ashes. Carefully she had made her way by foot, horse, and the occasional carriage to a small village on the border of the Irish Sea. From there she swam – and ye gods it had been cold! – to the Isle of Man, near Port Erin. After a day of much-needed rest she trekked to the other side of the island, a city named Douglas, and then swam northeast fifty miles to Seascale, a small English village. From there she took a combination, again, of traveling by foot, horse, or carriage to reach her hometown.

It amazed her, really, at how much her vampiric body could take. Lenore had no idea that vampires were this powerful. She was unsure if half-breeds had the same amount of stamina – perhaps in the future she'd ask Spike – but she found it most interesting. Of course, about thirty miles into the sea she had tired but her buoyant body was able to float for an hour until she had regained her strength to finish.

Of course, this also scared Lenore…because if _she_ was this powerful then she wondered just how powerful the older vampires were – especially Aurelius.

The worst part of her travels, however, was not her lack of sleeping accommodations or her intense cardio, but her Need to feed. It gnawed at her constantly and while thus far she was able to sate her thirst with animal blood, she found the taste positively _disgusting_. The first time she had drank from a stray dog outside Belfast she had thrown up. Following that episode she had been able to keep the blood down but it still disgusted her. Thoughts of human blood haunted her and the desire lay at the fringes of her mind – only her fear of being captured overrode the thoughts of blood and death.

Lenore honestly didn't know what to do. Spike had never seemed that disgusted by pig's blood. Perhaps she was doing it wrong? Oh God, what she would give to hear some advice on the subject.

Actually, Lenore was hoping to hear some advice on all of this…from Elspeth. She knew that after her escape Aurelius may desire to kill her remaining family members and Lenore _had_ to return and warn them.

Well, alright…that was only a half-truth. In reality she _longed_ to see her family more than anything. Her heart had been weighted with sorrow for the last two and a half years since she left them for Summerford. That was a long, long amount of time for a mother to be away from her children and the longing to embrace them almost made her feverish.

She wondered what they looked like now. Alexander would be eight, Elizabeth seven, and little Dawnie five. Good God…the last time she had seen her youngest child Dawn had been only thee – what if she didn't remember Lenore anymore? That was a long time for a child to remember…

But the absolute worst thing that Lenore feared was that she wouldn't be able to control her hunger around her children. Elizabeth was so klutzy – what if she accidentally cut himself? At this stage in her life Lenore wasn't sure if she could control her hunger if the smell of fresh blood was in the air.

No, scratch that. Lenore _knew_ she couldn't control herself if she smelled blood. While it was true that she had not tested that theory yet, there was no way that she wanted to put it to the test. Human blood was still in her system after less than three weeks and she could easily recall its delicious, satisfying taste; like sweet and thick honey wine warmed under the hot rays of the sun…

Lenore halted her steps on the hidden path that took her to Elspeth's house. Thinking of all these 'what if' scenarios were filling her with dread and only making her hungry. She was in _no_ condition to see her children today. No, none at all.

But she didn't want to be alone. Lenore was so lonely…she had been alone for years and all she wanted was to feel loved again, to feel like she mattered. Not force fed bled or beaten or raped. She was tired of pain and misery and craved loved right now. The need for that was almost as strong as the need for blood.

After contemplating a moment more, Lenore made the decision to see Fergus. He was the safest bet. She knew her brother would take her in – after all, if he wasn't squeamish about selling his soul to a demon than her sure as hell could deal with the fact that his sister was a vampire.

After trudging another mile under the cover of darkness, she finally arrived at the tailor shop and old family home. There was only one candle burning in the kitchen and the rest of the house was blanketed in darkness. Lenore took a deep breath and faintly smelled the scent of her brother, as well as a strong whiff of alcohol, but Molly was nowhere to be found. Strange. Where would her sister-in-law be so late at night?

Lenore sniffed the autumn air again for clues and this time the scent of sulfur traveled to her nose. She winced in disgust and looked around, but she could see nothing. Far off she heard a dog howl but that was the only noise on this otherwise peaceful night.

No matter. Lenore would figure it out later. Right now she just wanted to see her brother.

Tentatively, she knocked at the back door that led out of the kitchen; the door that was often used to dump out old cooking water and other waste products. She heard the scrape of a chair across the floor and a glass filled with liquid being set onto the table with great care. However, her brother did not make a move to walk to the door. Impatient, she sighed heavily and stomped her foot – God, why did her brother always find ways to frustrate the living daylights out of her?

"Fergus! It's Lenore. I'm back. Now open the door," she called softly, just loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so it wouldn't attract any further attention.

She heard Fergus' breath hitch and even heard his heart speed up just slightly. "L-len?" he stuttered in surprise.

"Yes, it's me," she rolled her eyes. "Now let me in. It's been far too long, Ferg," she smiled.

Fergus stood up and she heard him walk to the door and place his hand on the door handle. Slowly he opened up the door and gave her a pained look. "Are you here to usher me into the afterlife, Len?"

Brows furrowed in surprise, she walked in gave him a peculiar look as he firmly shut the door. "Huh?"

Fergus made his way back to the table and poured himself some more Craig, his favorite whiskey for as long as she could remember. "Just let me finish my bottle, baby sister, and I'll be ready to leave wit' you," he slightly slurred. Had she not possessed superior hearing she probably would not have noticed; Fergus had decades of drinking under his belt.

Lenore sat down and gazed at him suspiciously. "What, no hug?" she asked in a light and amused voice. Her brother's actions were worrying her, plus his reaction sure was an awful let down. She had been expecting joyous laughter and hugging and him twirling her in the air like he had when she was young!

Throwing the rest of the whiskey down his throat, Fergus glared at her. "Look here, demon," stated in a low and threatening tone. "Just because you've taken her form doesn't mean you _are_ her, so sod off."

Gasping in surprise at his words and tone, Lenore felt her eyes sting with brimming tears. She bit her lip and quickly wiped away the first traitorous, salty drop from her cheek. This reaction was most unexpected – how could Fergus said such hateful things to her? Yes, she was a vampire but she was still his sister…right?

"Okay then," she said in a small voice. "I'll leave."

Fergus glanced up at her in surprise. "Really?" he asked suspiciously. "After ten years of our deal you're going to let me keep my soul that easily?"

Now it was her turn to turn a suspicious gaze onto him. "Wh-what? Fergus what on _earth_ are you talking about? I don't want your soul."

She could hear his heart beat at a furious rate as he sat back into his chair to stare at her. His dark brown eyes narrowed at her in confusion but then widened as comprehension grew in his mind. Thin lips twitched nervously, as if he wasn't sure if he should smile or not, and he clutched his drink tightly in his hand. "Wait. Lenore…that's really you? Not a demon possessing your dead body?"

A relieved smile broke out on her face as she rushed to his side and knelt in front of him. She grabbed his right hand and touched it to her cheek. "Yes, you doofus it _is_ me." Well, maybe not quite. As far as she knew, her breed of vampires kept their soul but she wasn't sure how much of a 'demon' was in her.

Fergus took in a deep breath and then broke out into laughter as he leaned down and hugged her tightly, even going so far as to pull her into his lap to hold her even closer. Lenore snuggled into her older brother's embrace – she remembered how he had done this for her many times when she had been younger. He seemed much as she remembered but his face was gaunt and when she held him she could feel his bones protruding. It made her wonder why he hadn't been eating – stress about his demon deal she supposed.

He broke away from her and held her face in his hands as he examined her, his eyes running across her features. With a soft smile he said, "You haven't changed since I last saw you."

Lenore laughed nervously – it was amazing the anti-aging efforts of vampirism.

"I've missed you," she said quietly as she held his hand, once again reverting to her girlish days of when Fergus was the only person in her family that really seemed to enjoy taking care of her. Back then she would cry on his shoulder about Stephanie Scotts who always made fun of Lenore for walking around with a dreamy look on her face or tell him about her exciting dreams of people walking on the moon. Fergus had always been there for her – no matter what she would always love him.

Fergus frowned and averted his eyes a moment before returning to her. "I've missed you too, Len." Then he grinned and corrected himself. "Lenore; I suppose you aren't a little girl anymore."

She giggled. "You can call me Len," she allowed. Yeah, she hated it in a way but it sounded so wrong for him to call her by 'Lenore'.

He rolled his eyes at her comment. Then his expression sobered as he gave her a curious look. "Len, what happened? Summerford was attacked by demons, or so said the few remaining servants. Elspeth and I thought you died – especially when we never heard from you again. Hell, Elspeth even tried to find a spell that would summon an angel so she could talk to that Castiel being, but she couldn't find anything."

Lenore's teeth bit into her bottom look as she debated what to tell him. After his initial reaction she was suddenly nervous. Casually she got off his lap and went to pace on the other side of the room as she fiddled with the sleeve of the dress she had stolen off a closing line in Seascale. "W-we w-were attacked by d-demons," she stuttered.

"Len, what happened?" he asked cautiously as his eyes gave her a closer examination.

"Do you remember how the vampires were after me?" she asked with lowered eyes.

"Yes."

"They came for me, led by the Alpha of their kind – the most supreme vampire," she answered as she looked up to watch his expression. "I used magic to kill some and Castiel killed some as well, but the Alpha did his own spell that, I don't know," she shrugged. "It made Castiel disappear; some sort of symbol with my blood drawn on the wall. And then…And then he bit me." Lenore held her hands to her eyes as her body began trembling. "I-I changed. He f-forced me t-to drink h-human blood a-and then…and then he f-forced m-me to do other things as well."

As the words left her lips she was reminded again that her life was different now – she may have taken refuge in her big brother's arms for a moment but Real Life had come back and slapped her in the face. She began crying as she spoke, breathing hysterically as sobs racked her frame and she crumpled to the floor. Twenty-six months. Twenty-six months of pure hell and now she had nothing to experience _but_ hell – at least until it was time to see Willow again.

"Len, don't cry," her brother softly commanded as he sat beside her and let her lean her head on his shoulder. He patted her head awkwardly – while Fergus was always the one to comfort her in her family, he was very uneasy around crying. Like Castiel, he never seemed to know what to say.

Of course, no one was as bad at comforting a crying girl as her former Guardian Angel.

For what seemed like an hour, Lenore cried and released all of her emotional baggage from her past two years. Finally, she sniffed and accepted the handkerchief that Fergus offered her. "I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice muffled against Fergus' chest. "I shouldn't burden you with all of this."

"Oh sod off, he muttered, and she could practically hear his eyes rolling. "Ever since you were a babe I promised that I'd take care of you, luv. Cousin Elspeth said that you were special, even all the way back then, and I believed her."

"Yeah," she snorted. "And now I'm just a demon."

Fergus twitched at the word 'demon' and shook his head. "Well, you don't bloody want to kill folks, now do ya?"

"Well, no."

Well then, bugger it all! No one says you have to. Think about it, at least this way you're immortal. That's pretty neat."

A weak laugh passed her lips. "Yeah," she acknowledged softly.

Then her mind processed his earlier words. "Brother, why did you think I was demon possessed earlier?" she asked as she drew back to carefully inspect him.

"Ah, that," he shrugged. "Time's up, luv. Ten years ago to the day, today is."

Lenore wet her lips. "T-today?"

Fergus gave an unaffected shrug. "Yup. Deal's a deal."

"No!" she uttered with force as she stood to her feet. "I won't let them take you!"

Her brother gave her a wry smile. "Come now, baby sister. Aren't I the one that should be protecting you?"

Lenore folded her arms against her chest and shook her head. "Listen Fergus. I know we've never talked about this deal of yours but you know that I know and I know that you know that I know. Bottom line is, I don't care why you did it or anything – I'm not letting Hell take your soul."

Fergus ran a hand through his thinning hair. After a moment of silence he said, "I was drunk."

"Huh?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah," he snorted. "Me and Jimmy the blacksmith, remember him?" She nodded. "He got the crazy idea in his head and I agreed. I tried to get the spell out of Elspeth but when she denied me I went looking for it myself. By the time I found it a couple of years had passed but Jimmy was still interested. 'Course, we were nervous though so we drank quite a bit beforehand," he smirked with a shake of his head. "Let's just say by the time we summoned the demon we didn't have our goals very well outlined by then."

Lenore sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Listen Fergus, I'm not about to tell you that you were a complete and utter sodding moron—"

"—Thanks," he stated sarcastically.

"But that doesn't matter. Somehow we'll—"

A howl cut through the air and Lenore gave a frightened look towards the door. "What was that?" she gasped as another howl, closer this time, sounded.

In response Fergus just got up, picked up the half-empty bottle of Craig, and then proceeded to chug the entire bottle. When he was finished he burped and then gave her a shrug. "Hellhounds, darling," he answered. "They'll be my eshcorts," he slurred.

Lenore let out a disbelieving laugh at his casual reaction and gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously? _Seriously_? You're just going to let them take you?" she shouted.

Fergus shrugged again and gave her a serious look. "My darling Len, my beautiful baby shishter, I love you. I'm very happy that I got to see you once more. But honestly? There's no way to get out of this. Believe me, I've looked. So the way I see it, I've got to go. However, maybe once I'm down there I'll figure out a better deal." He shrugged. "Who knows? I am a rather cunning bastard," he smirked.

A large figure smashed into the back door and the wood bowed beneath the creature's weight. Past the door she heard a terrifying and unearthly howl that had shivers running down her back.

Lenore raced to her brother and cupped his cheek. "No," she stated vehemently. "I will not allow it! I've seen enough death, Ferg, and I'm not going to see yours!"

He gave her a sad look and then bent down to gently brush his lips against her forehead. "I'm a survivor, Len. I'll figure something out. Don't worry 'bout me."

She drew in a shaky breath as tears began rolling down her cheeks in earnest. God! She had gone years without barely allowing herself to cry – she hadn't wanted to give Aurelius the satisfaction – and now it seemed that she couldn't stop! "Fergus, but what am I going to do without my big brother?" she asked in a small voice.

Fergus gave her a lopsided smile as the door finally burst open. "Live."

Then something plowed into him – a hound with matted black fur and a snout covered with dried blood – and he fell to the floor. "No!" she shouted as she used her vampiric strength to toss the hound against the wall, causing it to emit a high-pitched whine. A second hound ran through the door – and this one was large, standing at four feet – and dug its teeth into her shoulder as it spun her into the air and she was whipped against the wall.

"Lenore! Just leave!" Fergus grunted. As the hound clawed his chest and bit his hand clean off, her brother let out the most ungodly sound that she had ever heard.

Lenore, heavily bleeding, shouted a fire spell at the two hounds that were now on top of her brother, but the flames did nothing to them – she should have known that hellhounds were impervious to fire. Moron! Instead she hastily jumped on top of the larger hound and threw it off of her brother and kicked the second hound. Peering into her brothers pained eyes, she saw his light dimming as he twitched in pain. Sinking down slowly she placed her hands onto his bleeding chest without thinking. "Fergus—"

Then her brain finally recognized the sweet smell of his blood and she looked upon her hands in horror as her fangs extracted painfully. Oh God. The Need was back. It called to her like a siren; deadly and duplicitous it desired nothing more than to turn her into a beast that would feed upon her very brother. The blood was thick on her hands and the scent of fear mingled in with the blood created a sweetness that reminded her of a plump grape. Yes, her brother was like a plump grape, fully ripened on the vine, pumping full of red delicious liquid. Liquid that would _truly_ satisfy her, unlike the swill that she had been drinking for the past twenty days – the twenty longest days of her life.

So wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice when one of the hounds pounced again onto Fergus and sank its gruesome jaws into her brother's neck, finally releasing his spirit. With haste the two hounds departed, and she was alone.

Alone with her brother's body and his blood on her hands.

The hands that she couldn't stop looking at. They were soaked with his blood and its redness perfectly highlighted each faint line on her palms. Her mouth was watering and his scent perfumed the air. Suddenly Lenore was feeling claustrophobic and she wanted to leave, no she needed to leave, but it wouldn't let her. The Need was calling upon her to just lick her fingers, just to lick them clean, mind you, because it would be so inappropriate to walk around town a bloody mess. Besides, it's not like she would be drinking _from_ Fergus – he was dead now and that blood was no good. But the blood on her hands was from before and thus was allowable. And, he was already dead. It's not like he would mind her having a little taste.

Her strength was floundering against the Need and Lenore succumbed weakly to it. Her tongue began licking every inch and crevice of her hands like a frenzied cat and she shuddered and moaned in happiness. Oh yes, human blood was so good. So, so good. Animal blood was far from its equivalent.

A sharp intake of breath startled her and Lenore looked up through the open doorway; the door was lying in front of the frame and was scattered to the side. There, her features barely lit up in the dark of night and the single candle flame, was her cousin Elspeth.

Lenore smiled licked her lips. She was so happy to see Elspeth again! Her cousin had her graying hair tied back into a braid and she wore a simple blue dress that contrasted prettily under her pale complexion. "Elspeth!" she cried out joyfully as she stood to her feet.

Elspeth gave her a horrified expression and summoned magic to provide her with a mystical shield. "Back, you demon!" she shrieked. "Get away from the lad and get out of my cousin!"

Lenore frowned…and closed her eyes in revulsion as guilt knotted her stomach. Oh God, Lenore was covered, face and hands, with Fergus' blood. With his dead body right behind her Elspeth must think that she killed him. Even worse, Elspeth didn't know that the other breed of vampires did get to keep their souls – she thought that Lenore was possessed by a demon as well.

"Elspeth," she said nervously in a quiet voice. "It wasn't me, it was the hellhounds. And I'm still Lenore!"

"Lies!" Elspeth shouted angrily and before Lenore even realized it was happening her cousin summoned a ball of fire at Lenore. The flames tentatively licked her skin and then clung to her body as Lenore let out a scream of pain and used her own magic to extinguish them.

Elspeth stared at her in a mix of shock, dismay, and fear, but her next words were stated strongly. "Listen to me demon – you stay away from me and the children or next time you won't be able to put out the flames." Then she threw a glass vial at the floor that exploded and threw Lenore back several feet into the stove. She heard Elspeth climbing onto a horse and racing away, but Lenore wouldn't follow. Why should she? Elspeth was a powerful witch and she knew the true nature of vampires – they couldn't be trusted.

And after feeding off of her own brother, Lenore had to agree.

Eager to leave this house that stank of death behind, Lenore ran outside and just kept running until she reached the forest one mile away from the village. Then she slowed her pace and leaned against a tree. Her eyes were stony and her face was drawn – Lenore had no more tears left in her.

She was finally, utterly, truly alone in this world.

She wasn't sure how long she was there –many hours at least – but she could feel dawn approaching. No longer black, the sky in the east was now a dark blue and she began wondering what she should do about shelter for the coming day.

"I wondered how long it would take you to come back home," a cool voice stated softly.

Looking up towards the west Lenore saw Castiel standing there in his typical outfit of a green plaid kilt and light wool sweater. "Castiel!" she said happily. "I thought you had died! What happened?"

Castiel frowned and shuffled uncomfortably. "That spell expelled me back to heaven and the process to get back takes a while," he answered gruffly

Lenore bit her lip and took a step forward, then stopped herself. "Well, I'm glad you're okay," she said.

"Yes." His eyes faced downward as he averted her gaze. "I am sorry that you are not."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I really am not," she acknowledge sadly.

"I apologize that I could not protect you."

She gave the angel a soft smile. "It's okay. You did your best. The trouble with fate is you can't outrun it or outwit it. I guess this was meant to happen – at least I'll be able to see Willow now." Lenore's voice was soft but to be honest, after losing her brother to hell and having her mother-like cousin cut her off, she didn't even have much hope in seeing Willow anymore.

"I'm sorry, but you will not be able to do that."

Lenore glanced at the angel sharply and noticed that he actually looked sad, yet resigned, about his words. "Why? Why can't I see Willow?" she hurriedly asked with a voice that was pitched higher than normal.

"You are an abomination now, Eleanor Amelia McLeod. Someone of your talents must not be available for the side of evil." A sleek silver sword appeared in his hand and Lenore shrank back fearfully.

"B-but I don't want to kill anyone – I won't!" she protested as Castiel began to advance.

He looked at her sadly. "But you already have – Magdalene – and you will again. Tonight you displayed your weakness by feeding upon your dying brother. I am sorry Lenore, but you are an abomination. I must end you."

"No!" she screeched. No matter what happened or how she felt about things, Lenore knew that she didn't want to die.

A popping noise sounded behind her, she heard a surprised yelp, felt arms grabbing her around the waist, and suddenly Lenore felt herself yanked out of the village and into somewhere strange and new.

**A/N:**

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!

The love you're showing this story is really helpful in keeping my muse flowing…plus, it's always more fun to write when you know someone else is enjoying it. So gracias! :D


	11. Kind of Like A Fairy Godmother

**Kind of Like A Fairy Godmother**

_Reine, Norway  
September 26, 1703_

Lenore gasped as her feet landed on solid ground and she took in the sight before her. Lush green grass sparkling with dew stretched on for as far as her eye could see. She was located at a higher elevation and thus could see a dozen homes in the valley below her, many of them just starting to release smoke from their chimneys. The air was crisp and chilly but it felt very _clean_ and pure in a way that Lenore wasn't used to, even in Scotland. The sky was awash in a peach and pink hues that signaled the arrival of dawn and not one cloud marred the perfection of the clear sky. To the west was a thick forest that seemed to teem with life; she noticed dozens of birds fluttering above it.

Almost afraid to turn around and see who had taken her, Lenore reluctantly faced the person who had rescued her from Castiel. Her eyes widened in surprise. "A-Anyanka?"

The brunette vengeance demon wore a finely cut dress with a plunging neckline that showcased her emerald pendent very well. Her hair was in an elegant up-do made up of spiraling curls that were kept in place by golden hairpins with an emerald set in at the tip. Her face was one of frustration, annoyance, and a great deal of fear; Lenore could tell by the way her hands were gripping the fabric of her dress.

"Yes, it's me," she grumbled. Then she turned around and Lenore gasped as she realized the were standing at the foot of a large, glacier-topped mountain. Then Anyanka opened her mouth and shouted, "LOKI!"

Lenore was taken aback – just what were Anyanka and Loki doing helping her?

"No need to shout, Aud," a smooth voice sounded to their right. Lenore's right hand went to cover her heart as she stared at the trickster god in surprise. He looked the same as last time, although the highlights in his hair seemed to stand out more in the golden sunrise. Today he was wearing thick brown leggings and boots, a white shirt, and a brown furred cloak. As always, he was in a constant stake of 'smirk-ness', that only seemed to grow as Anyanka glared daggers at him.

"L-Loki?" Lenore breathed out softly.

He turned to her and his smirk disappeared for a moment as a sad look entered his amber eyes. "Hey there, kiddo."

"Loki," Anyanka hissed. "When you called in this favor _first_ of all I was having breakfast with the former Tsarina Evdokiya and trying to get her to curse Peter. _Then_ when I go and kidnap the vampire I had to take her from an angel – a _freaking angel_ who, oh I don't know, could have _killed me_ with just one single smiting glare!" Anyanka's hands were curled up into fists and she was nearly out of breath from her screaming rant as she glared severely at Loki.

"Aud, Anyanka, baby – you gotta look on the bright side. You just dicked over one of those feathered bastards and got away with it!" Loki grinned.

"For now," she snapped. "I don't see why you couldn't get her yourself."

Loki laughed and gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. "Because – those guys can kill me!" he chuckled in amusement.

Anyanka just slapped him.

Loki sighed forlornly. "Okay, maybe I deserved that."

"Damn straight!" she said tersely. "Now we're even on the whole Baldur deal – right?"

"But of course," Loki bowed lowly. "Thank you, my most gracious beauty."

"Yeah, whatever," Anyanka snorted. Then she shot Lenore a severe look. "And _you_, you stop getting into trouble, missy." Then she flung her arms up and disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

Loki chuckled as he shook his head. "Vengeance demons – they just love making an exit."

"Yeah…" Lenore trailed off in an unsure voice as she cautiously looked at the pagan god. Her shoulder seemed to be throbbing even more after the teleportation spell and Lenore moved her hand to cover the bloody wound.

"You're hurt," Loki commented in surprise as he looked her over. "That winged bastard do that to you?" he asked in voice that simmered with anger.

"N-no," Lenore stammered as her mind flashed back to the moments in her brother's house. "It was a hellhound."

"Ah," he said in an understanding voice after a moment's pause. "Well then, let's get you cleaned up, Lenore," he added as he began walking towards the base of the towering mountain.

The terrain was uneven but quite grassy and pretty. As she began following Loki she wondered where they were heading. Just ten feet ahead the mountain seemed to jump up at a near vertical incline and the area was made of smooth rock.

"Um, are we climbing up?" Lenore asked tentatively as they reached the smooth wall.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? It's cold up there." Loki gestured towards the area of the mountain in front of them and suddenly a section of it slid up, revealing some sort of darkened cave. "_This_ is what I like to call 'home sweet home'," he grinned as he stepped inside.

With a snap of his fingers an immense chandelier above them exploded with light, revealing every inch of the sumptuous room in all of its glory. Another snap later and a fireplace that was taller than her lit up in a rush of crackling flame. Underneath everything was a thick Persian rug that was colored in earth tones. Arrayed around the room were several exquisite couches and lounge chairs surrounded by a dark mahogany bookcase that bordered two walls and several sculptures that Lenore suspected were stolen from the Vatican, because an art history class taught her about Michelangelo and Bernini and their styles. Plus, she was pretty sure that the one sculpture was 'Moses' and was, during the time when she was 'Tara', located in a Roman church somewhere.

"Wow, nice place," she managed to say in the midst of her wonderment.

Loki shrugged. "It works." Then he shot her an amused grin. "But just wait 'till you see all the other rooms, Lenore. _Then_ you'll be impressed."

Lenore just nodded as she felt drawn to the bookshelves, which featured many leather-bound books as well as several dozen scrolls made out of what appeared to be thin papyrus. She breathed in deeply in astonishment, and then was surprised to also smell the scent of rich mahogany. Wow, Loki sure knew how to live.

"I'll go grab some bandages. Be right back," she heard Loki say but Lenore was quite immersed in reading the book titles. There were so many languages displayed here – some she recognized, few she understood, and there were even several that she wasn't even sure if anyone still spoke that language anymore.

"C'mere," Loki suggested as he set a bowl of clean water, a clean towel, and white cloth bandages on a low mahogany table that was bordered by the rich blue couch he sat on and a smaller love seat on the other side.

Feeling like she was in a dream – and honestly just feeling shell-shocked by the events of the last eight hours – Lenore complied and sat to Loki's left.

He began to tear off the sleeve of her dress and Lenore jerked away violently on instinct. Her heart was suddenly pounding like the drums of hell and she found herself panting without knowing why.

"Lenore?" he asked in a puzzled voice. "I need to clean the wound fully before I can bandage that. Don't worry about your dress, I've got plenty of spares laying around," he said with a wave of his hand, thinking he had correctly guessed the reason behind her reaction.

But Lenore didn't care about her dress. This was just something she had stolen while on the run. She just…God, she couldn't explain her reaction.

Slowly she sat down and braced herself as Loki finished ripping off her sleeve. He dipped the towel into the bowl of water and began to carefully wipe away the blood from her wound.

"Lenore, you're trembling," he said in a soft voice as he cleaned the torn flesh. "Is the pain that bad?"

His voice was so soft, so unlike what she had been experiencing lately that it was a knock-down drag-out fight to not cry. "I-I'm fine, L-loki."

"What's wrong? Are you hurt elsewhere?" he asked kindly as he placed his hand on her wrist in a reassuring manner.

Lenore jerked away from him and gasped, "Please don't touch me."

"Lenore?" he asked in surprise as he sat still.

She stood up and began leaning from one foot to another as she hurriedly answered, "I just don't like to be touched. N-not anymore."

It took her a minute to understand her reaction but the only time she was touched anymore was by Aurelius ra—hurting her or his cronies force feeding her human blood. Even before that, Connor had routinely forced wifely duties upon her. The only man who's touch felt okay was Fergus' because he was her brother.

Well, _was_ her brother.

Loki stared at her for a long time, like he was trying to find answers to unspoken questions, before he nodded. "Alright. How about I'll show you to the spare room and you can feel free to dress your own wounds there."

Her expression turned suspicious. "Why are you helping me? I mean, not that I am not thankful or anything for the spell to escape from Aurelius and for sending Anyanka for me, but why? And why let me stay here?"

Loki paused and the normal glow of amusement that his eyes seemed to constantly have faded into some darker emotion that she couldn't decipher. Then he forced a smile and shrugged. "I get bored sometimes and like to pick up pet projects."

"So I'm what? Your project?" she repeated slowly.

"Or my pet!" he grinned charmingly. "Now come on, milady. Your room is this way."

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
September 29, 1703_

Lenore didn't leave her room for the next three days.

As rooms go, at least it wasn't a bad one. In fact, it was pretty darn nice. She had a four-poster canopy bed that was covered with emerald green sheets and blanket – her favorite color actually. A smooth mahogany desk filled with various blank notebooks, quills, and pencils sat in one corner and a small bookshelf full of various books, ranging from the topic of magic to classic novels, was next to the desk. The room was kept warm by a small fireplace that seemed to burn by a constant magic. A wardrobe full of a dozen dresses from various cultures – some were made of tartan cloth, some trimmed with exotic fur, and there was even a kimono!

Lenore opted for the kimono but wore it more as a robe and did not deal with the difficult obi, or sash. Every day she just stayed in the kimono as she laid in bed and tried to forget all about her life and how awful it as.

Oh sure, Loki had tried to check on her but she had asked him if she could please just be alone and he, surprisingly, obliged her request. Lenore felt quite rude, treating him like this, but she just couldn't bare to see anyone right now, much less talk to anyone – especially if he wanted to ask her about anything that has happened to her life in the last two years.

She sighed. Hopefully Loki understood.

Several hours went by as she got lost in a book about magic against supernatural creatures. It was Lenore's hope that maybe she could find a spell that would take away her bloodlust so that way she could see her children again without consequences Sadly, there only appeared to be spells that helped to kill vampires – which was still helpful but not what she wanted the most.

A knock sounded at the door and Lenore stilled. "Yes?"

"Lenore, may I come in?"

"Um." She paused. "Maybe later?"

A sigh. "Lenore I understand your need to be alone but you've been here three days. Don't you need to feed?"

Now it was her turn to sigh. Oh _yes_ did she need to feed, but she didn't want to. Never again did she want to indulge the Need. After all, the last time she did her dear cousin had found her drinking the blood of her brother.

"No, I'm fine."

Her vampire senses could almost hear Loki's eyeballs rolling in their sockets. "Fledging vampires can't go long without feeding. If you don't feed today you'll be too weak to hunt tomorrow."

""I-I'll be fine."

"I'm coming in!"

"No—" but it was too late, Loki had already opened the door.

He eyeballed the room slowly and took an extra amount of time to take in her disheveled appearance and rumpled kimono. "I like the look," he smirked.

She glared at him for making fun of her. "Good, I'm glad that you're a fan of the 'no-shower' look."

His smirk turned sly as he corrected her. "Naw, I was thinking the 'disheveled post-sex look."

Lenore tightened her kimono and frowned at him, even as a part of her was fairly amused. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're the 'trickster god' or the 'god of love and lame come-ons'," she rolled her eyes.

Loki made a disgusted face. "Ugh, I am most happily _not_ the god of love. That's Baldur." He said 'Baldur' like it was a dirty word and recognition struck.

"Isn't that who Anyanka mentioned when she talked about her favor?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "She was dating him for a while until she realized that the mangy bastard is called the god of love for a reason – she found out he had several other women on the side. Of course," he shrugged, "since she can't answer her own wish she asked me for help. So I killed him."

"W-what?" Lenore gasped as she sat up straight.

"Eh, don't fret kiddo. It's pretty damn hard to kill a pagan god and there are still folks who worship the bastard so I'm sure it's not permanent. Anyways, that's beside the point. You need to hunt."

"N-no! I don't want to kill humans," she stated firmly.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. You're the soft-hearted do-gooder type. But haven't you tried animal blood?"

"Er, well, yeah. After I escaped that's all I drank." She frowned. "It's bloody awful though."

"Well _yeah_ it is, especially if you're feeding off livestock and stray dogs. No, I've got something better for you."

She stood up and looked at him apprehensively. Lenore wanted to feed, no doubt about it, but her depression was commanding her just to stay in the shadows of this room and never leave.

Loki snapped his fingers and suddenly they were outside in a wooded area. The canopy of trees hid the moon from them but her eyes could see easily in the dark. Looking down she realized that she was now clad in a man's outfit – boots, leggings, and a loose-fitted shirt. "Hey! You changed me." Lenore wasn't sure to feel grateful for clothes that would make hunting easier or violated because he changed her.

"I just magicked you something new; no touching and no looking." He gave her a wide smile. "I guess I'm kind of like your fairy godmother or something."

"Or something," she snorted.

"Hey now," he said in a warning tone. "Don't make me send you back to the angels."

"Sorry," she mumbled quickly.

"No problem!" he said cheerfully as he eagerly rubbed his hands together. A howl pierced the night and Lenore jumped high in surprise.

"Wh-what was that?" she asked Loki as she found herself drawing closer to him. Her teeth began chattering as a sudden chill settled upon her. Flashes of Fergus getting torn apart by the hounds kept passing through her mind's eye.

Loki made a motion like he was going to touch her in reassurance but then pulled back, for which she was grateful – Lenore still didn't want to be touched. "Don't worry, those aren't hellhounds. Just your average wolf pack."

"Oh," she said in relief. "Oh," she added in worry a moment later. "Will they attack us? I've, um, always been afraid of wolves, ever since Fergus read me the story of Little Red Riding Hood."

Loki started laughing so hard that she almost saw tears in his eyes. "Oh damn, Lenore. I'd keep you in my house forever just to hear whatever crazy thing you'd say next."

Hands on her hips she gave him a dirty look. "And just what do you mean by _that_, Loki?"

"Lenore," he sighed with an amused smile. "You're a _vampire_ you know. More likely than not the little wolves are going to be scared of _you_.

"Oh…yeah." Lenore found herself smiling and gave an apologetic shrug. "So what now? I hunt wolves?"

"No," Loki quickly replied. When he saw her surprised expression at his reaction he shrugged. "I like wolves. Anyways, I was thinking you should hunt a moose. Your shoulder has healed already, yes?"

"Um, yes. But… a moose? I've never seen one but aren't they…big?"

"Oh yes. 'Bout six feet tall, sometimes seven. Weigh anywhere from eight-hundred to fifteen-hundred pounds." Loki grinned. "It'll be fun."

"Fun?" she squeaked. "That thing is huge!"

"And you're a VAMPIRE!" he shouted for emphasis. "Darn it Lenore you need to get that fight back into you again. A life or death match with a powerful antlered beast is just the ticket."

"I think I hate you," she said petulantly as she folded her arms across her chest.

"And you're just the loveliest creature," he smiled mischievously. "Now come on – let's hunt!"

Lenore followed Loki stealthily in-between the towering trees. Or well, she tried to be stealthy but Loki kept correcting her. Although she had been a vampire for two years she had never been taught to fend for herself since Aurelius wanted to keep her chained to him, powerless. But Loki was a good teacher; he showed her how to track her prey, how to carefully observe the clues of the forest, how to stay silent, and also just about the wildlife in general. A few hours of hunting had passed but it flew by so quickly that Lenore didn't even realize the length of elapsed time. Hunting didn't exactly come naturally to her – she had never been interested as a human, in either of her lives – but Loki made it interesting, enjoyable almost.

"Stop," he instructed and Lenore halted in place. "Strain your ears. What do you hear?"

Carefully Lenore extended her senses and off to the distance she heard a bubbling brook of some sort. "Water."

"And that means...?"

"Food. Something will be drinking there."

"Excellent," he smiled warmly. "Lead the way?"

Lenore nodded and immediately began sprinting towards the water source. Along the way she took heed of Loki's earlier advice and her supernatural eyes scanned the forest floor and she was careful to avoid dry leaves, branches, and anything else that may make noise. She ran so quickly that her feet barely touched the ground, which helped her to remain silent. Finally she reached a clearing and there, as she had predicted, a giant moose was walking to the brook.

She wet her lips nervously. "What now?" The beast was impressive looking in size and his antlers looked deadly.

"You kill him."

Lenore tossed her new mentor an incredulous look. "Kill him?" she repeated archly. "Thank you Captain Obvious." Hmm. Using Sunnydale slang made her heart pang in remembrance of Willow and her old friends.

Loki's lips twitched into a lopsided smile as he shook his head at her. "Just go and try it. I'm sure you'll surprise yourself."

"Or take an antler through the heart," she muttered.

He shrugged. "At least the only way you can die is by beheading, so think on the positive side. Only a maiming, not death, lies in your future!"

"Thanks," she muttered sarcastically as she began to creep towards the animal. His antlers spread out in an arc at least two feet on each side of his head and they erupted in a series of sharp edges – seven on one side and eight on the other side of its head. It was certainly large at six feet and she imagined it weighed about a thousand pounds. Lenore inspected its hooves – Loki had told her to watch out for those. When she attacked the moose would return fire with his antlers and hooves.

Lenore slid from shadow to shadow as she sought to find the best place to attack. However, her moose stilled for a moment and then began running to the east. Damn! Loki had warned her that animals usually had a sixth sense when predators were around. Like lightning Lenore followed it and easily caught up to the animal, although now she wasn't sure how to attack it. While she was strong and fast she was still small so tackling the beast wasn't a great plan.

So Lenore leapt on top of it, intent on just biting the creature's neck. Her hidden fangs ran through her gums and her stomach practically growled in hunger. She bent down and bit into the creature and it made a noise of pain. Taking her by surprise the moose stopped so suddenly that she was flung off and ended up smashing into a tree.

"Ooh, bad idea," she muttered. Then she heard the moose make a very *angry* sound. Digging its hooves into the ground it charged her, antlers forward, and Lenore very quickly had to roll out of the way or perhaps end up with her head cut off her neck.

It charged her again and Lenore thought quickly. Using her supernatural speed and strength she evaded the antler by jumping to the side and then she grabbed hold of the bony growth and ripped off the left half of the moose's antlers. It let out a shriek of pain that made her feel horrible and guilty inside. She sought to end his pain so she raised the antler to pierce its jugular when Lenore was caught by surprise by the right half of the antlers catching her under her ribs and throwing her up into the air with force. Since they were in a forest trees surrounded them but luckily she lessened her impact against a thick evergreen by kicking off of it . She landed on the ground hard and the moose loomed over her, intent on crushing her skull with its hoof, when she jammed her stolen antlers into the underside if his neck.

Fluidly she somersaulted backwards and evaded the hoof, ignoring for the moment her bloodlust. The moose let out a guttural groan as it swayed unsteadily on its feet, before falling ten seconds later. The fall of its massive body echoed through the forest and Lenore leapt to it and used that moment to break the animal's neck, in order to put it out of its misery. Then she fed hungrily – and was quite surprised at how much better the blood tasted. Not human-good at all, but much better than her previous four-legged victims.

By the time she was done she was more full than she had ever been – moose carried a heck of a lot of blood in their systems – and she sank, sated, to the forest floor.

"How was dinner?" Loki asked, appearing out of nowhere like always.

"Good." Her eyes narrowed as she wiped the blood from her face. "I almost died though – where were you?"

He shrugged and smiled secretly. "I was watching. You were fine."

Lenore bit back a retort because she knew he was right – she had done it fine enough on her own. "Just fine?" she asked, interested in knowing if she had gained his approval.

He let out a barking laugh. "Nearly getting killed makes you 'just fine.' Maybe when you manage to not get broken ribs and tossed around like a tennis ball I'll give you a higher mark."

Lenore couldn't argue with that. "My ribs are killing me," she admitted grudgingly.

"You can dress them at home." Then he did the oddest thing – he threw his head back and let out a wolfy howl.

"When did you turn into a werewolf?" she asked uneasily as Lenore's eyes raked over him in an assessing manner.

An answering howl could be heard and then another. "It would be a waste to leave this animal here. Let the wolves have him."

Already Lenore could hear them approaching. "Don't you want to take him back? People love to eat deer back home."

Loki made a disgusted face. "Meat is not my thing, kiddo. I tend to prefer sweet mead or anything else that'll ruin my teeth."

"Isn't that an odd trait for a pagan god? I thought you lot were rather bloodthirsty."

"You ask too many questions," he grumbled before he snapped his fingers and they were back at the house; the conversation was effectively ended.

* * *

**A/N**

*sigh* I think we can all breath easier now that 'lil Lenore is, more or less, safe for the moment.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing – I *love* them and appreciate your input! :D

_References_:  
* Reine, Norwary – Where Loki lives! I picked it because it is very secluded and gorgeous :D (http:/ . org/ wiki/Reine)  
*_"When you called in this favorfirst of all I was having breakfast with the former Tsarina Evdokiya and trying to get her to curse Peter._- Evdokiya was Peter the Great's First Wife and had a notorious poor relationship with him after he divorced her. However, she got her revenge eventually when her grandson Peter II became Tsar and gave her a court of her own! (.org/wiki/Eudoxia_Lopukhina)  
* _Plus, she was pretty sure that the once sculpture as 'Moses' and was, during the time when she was 'Tara', was in a Roman church somewhere._ - *sigh* I got to see this sculpture. It is located inside a church in Roman (San Pietro in Vincoli) and is by Michelangelo. (http:/ . org/wiki/Moses_%28Michelangelo%29)  
*_Lenore just nodded as she felt drawn to the bookshelves, which featured many leather-bound books as well as several dozen scrolls made out of what appeared to be thin papyrus. She breathed in deeply in astonishment, and then was surprised to also smell the scent of rich mahogany. Wow, Loki sure knew how to live._- Anyone familiar with 'Anchorman'? Its one of my fav movies and I could see Loki enjoying it, thus the presence of "many leather bound books" and that the place smells of "rich mahogany" ;)


	12. The Spark of the Sun

**The Spark of the Sun**

_Reine, Norway  
May 7, 1714  
_

Lenore was finally starting to understand just what it meant to be immortal. Vampires were, unless beheaded, ageless creatures that could survive until the end of time. While she had, in the beginning, theoretically understood what that meant, now she was gaining the realization of what immortal truly meant: Time lost its meaning for she was past that now; there was nothing to tether her to the mortal world.

Almost eleven years had passed since Loki had taken her in as his 'pet project' and in that time she had settled into a routine of sorts. It had taken a lot for Lenore to deal with all the major changes in her life but she had dealt, mostly thanks to Loki's help. However, the entire time the most she had ever felt was _content_ with her life. The true passion, true lust for life that she had felt when she had been with her children or, as Tara, been with Willow, was no longer available to her.

Until today.

Because today Lenore finally felt that _spark_ again…

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
November 11, 1705  
_

Every few days she would go hunting in the never-ending forests and lowlands that covered the former Viking territory – sometimes she hunted big game like a moose or even a polar bear and occasionally she went for small 'snacks' like an arctic fox. Of course, by Loki's request, she never harmed wolves. In fact, Lenore had befriended the various packs in her hunting areas in a way, forming a unique partnership. She would hunt and drain an animal of their blood and the wolves would harvest the remaining carcass. In return the wolves would announce the presence of any humans in the territory by emitting a howl that could travel up to five or six miles to reach a human's ears and thus a bit farther even to reach her own. Thus Lenore was properly warned if any tempting humans stumbled to close to her territory.

But other than those nights that she went out hunting – always with Loki – Lenore sought the sanctuary of her room and never left. Her time was spent daydreaming, sketching, reading, and writing. Whenever she read all the books in her personal bookcase the next day after she awoke there would always be a new set – and always on topics that interested her like magic, art, and history. Loki never pushed for her to socialize with him or to talk about what had happened to her, and for this she was thankful. Because in all honesty Lenore _couldn't_ face the 'real world' just yet. No, she was perfectly content just putting up a wall against all of her trauma and pretending that it never happened.

Of course, walls can only be held up for so long before something stronger crumbles it to ruins.

It was day and she was sleeping, as usual. Often Lenore would dream and for the most part her dreams were about her past life. Today, however, she dreamt of something else – of a furious and tumultuous sea tossing a boat from one gargantuan wave to the next. The boat shuddered and let out a death rattle as its mast collapsed onto the deck, rocking the boat further until finally the entire ship capsized. Hundreds of people – mostly men but also some women and children – fell into the unmerciful sea. Cruelly, Lenore bore witness to a young man of twenty-six years of age plunge into the cold sea – her nephew Gavin McLeod.

Her brother Fergus may not have gotten along well at all with Gavin but Lenore had always loved the boy – he was her flesh and blood. Suddenly she knew that what she was witnessing was no mere dream but a witness account to her nephew's untimely demise. The revelation choked sobs out of her and like a sponge being squeezed she felt tears fall in a wave from her grief-stricken eyes.

"Lenore, Lenore. Wake up," a soft, yet strong, voice commanded her.

Too much death. Too much death had been witnessed by her and dealt by her. And this would not be the last. No, Lenore was immortal. All of her children would die someday. And while Lenore had not seen them and was afraid to see them because of Elspeth's misguided wrath, the realization that someday her flesh and blood would leave this earth grieved her greatly.

She awoke in Loki's arms, almost in a seizure from her gasping sobs, and he gripped her tightly around her arms and torso in an attempt to still her. Her nightgown was soaked in cold sweat, her sheets were twisted about, and she had broken the headboard with the strength of her movements.

"L-Loki!" she managed to gasp out as her body ceased flailing and her seizure just dissolved into uncontrollable shivers.

"Shh," he murmured as he settled into a sitting position and pulled her against him. Her cheek pressed against his chest and her arms automatically wrapped around his waist as she burrowed herself against him.

At one point Lenore could never imagine another man touching her again but right now, right here, she needed to feel safe again. And somewhere along the line Loki had become her safety net.

Her face was slick with salty tears and she hiccupped once or twice as she sought to take control of her body again. Her crying eventually stopped but the shivers were persistent – it felt like her body had plunged into the wintry sea along with her nephew. Throughout it all Loki rubbed her back reassuringly and Lenore took comfort in the warmth of his body and his heartbeat against her ear. Finally she stilled, yet neither of them made a movement to leave.

"What was it?" he asked softly.

Lenore tensed like a wild animal backed into a corner; mind racing to survey her options. "You once said I don't have to talk about things if I don't want to."

He sighed and Lenore felt guilty for how she kept him out – especially after all that he had done for her. "You're right, you don't," he acknowledged. "But you can if you want."

Lenore was quiet for a long time – but then again, time had no meaning to either of them. Finally she spoke in a voice softer than a mouse's steps. "If I talk about it, then it's real."

"Yeah it is kiddo. But I think that you and I both know that a lot of things are real, even if no one ever talks about them."

She turned watery blue eyes up at him and smiled weakly. "Can't I just be an ostrich and hide my head in the sand?"

He smiled warmly. "Sorry. Turns out that's just a myth – I checked it out once on vacation."

Lenore sighed heavily but finally sat up a little straighter, although she was still in Loki's embrace. "I had a dream, but I already know that it wasn't a dream. It was a vision of something that's happened – recently." Nervously she began toying with the hem of the white linen shirt that Loki was wearing. "I saw my nephew, Gavin, drown on his way to America."

Loki frowned as he squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry Lenore – both for your loss and that you had to see it. I didn't realize you received visions like that."

She shrugged. "I haven't before but I've always been sensitive to the otherworld, even before I became a," she snorted and made finger quotations, "'Prophetess of the Lord'."

Was it just her imagination or did Loki twitch ever so slightly when she said that? Hmm. Lenore had just assumed that he knew she was a prophetess, but maybe not.

"But what's more," she continued, "is I think I finally realized what it'll mean to watch my children age as I remain the same; what it'll mean when they die and I'll still be living for hundreds of years."

His hand found hers and she inhaled deeply. "It's not going to be easy, I wish it was. But you're strong, Lenore. You've always had a strong spirit and I don't expect that to change now."

Lenore's heart warmed slightly from his compliment but she still let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "Strong? I'm weak and always have been. I was too weak to leave Connor, too weak to fight off Aurelius, too weak to keep from drinking my brother's own blood, and finally too weak to fight and explain to Elspeth that I'm not evil so I can see my children again – except I _can't_ do that because that would be a lie! My bloodlust makes me weak, makes me a servant shackled and bound to Aurelius and his ways, even if I no longer serve him directly!" Her words began softly but soon erupted into a scream of rage and undiluted frustration as she tore away her hand from his and threw her arms against the ceiling.

Her face was turned from Loki and she was panting like a caged rabid dog. The wall that held her memories and fears was crumbling and good Lord almighty she was trying to stack the bricks back up but nothing would stick!

There was just the sound of her heavy breathing for a long moment and then—"You're not weak."

Lenore's head whirled to him in surprise. "Didn't you just hear what I said?" she asked incredulously, not understanding why he was contradicting her.

"Didn't you just hear what _I_ said?" he repeated archly with a well-timed gesticulation of his right finger pointing to his chest. "Listen Lenore, trust me – I know weakness. I know cowardice. I understand what it's like to leave the people you care about because you can't face them anymore. But you?" He shook his head. "You're not weak. You've faltered, sure, but weakness isn't in failure – it's in falling and failing to get back up again."

She started to say something but he interrupted.

"I know I don't know the whole story of your life but your former husband? He was a bastard but what were you supposed to do – kill him? Were you really capable of that?" he asked with wide eyed intensity.

"Well no, but I could have left, with the children," she added as she shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating eyes.

"And done what?" he asked with his head cocked to the side. "You may have visions of a future where a woman with children doesn't need a man, but that ain't this century."

"Well, yeah, maybe," she conceded with a sigh.

"As for Aurelius…" Loki shrugged. "You really didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of escaping." He looked away. "When I heard through the grapevine that the Alpha had caught himself a Prophetess, I knew it was you. I tried looking for you but that old bastard keeps his lair pretty secretive. Even when I did find you I knew that you had to be the one to do the spell; I couldn't really help."

Drawing her knees up close to her chest, Lenore peered silently at the pagan god. She had no idea that he had actually spent time looking for her. Actually, she had never really known why his package had arrived, she just counted her blessings and kept on moving. "You looked for me?"

He looked surprised by her question, perhaps even surprised by his own admittance. His head ducked in a bashful manner, shrugged, and spoke gruffly. "Yes, of course." Then he looked up. "But that's not the point. The point is you still managed to kick ass and get away from the Alpha – the _only_ vampire that I've ever heard of successfully doing that, by the way—"

"—Glad I didn't know the success rate beforehand," she muttered sardonically.

"-_And_ I know you wish you could be farther in being able to control your bloodlust but you gotta remember- you've only been a vamp four years and two of those were spent feasting on humans. Basically, you're barely a toddler in vamp years so you can't help your lack of self-control. But you'll get there."

Lenore shrugged and stared at her toes. "Yeah, maybe," she said softly.

He bumped his shoulder into hers playfully. "What's that thing you said to me once, when we were out hunting? 'Do or do not, there is no try', young padawan."

Lenore snickered. During their hunts she had told Loki some stories about her past as Tara – because that was a different life and definitely not as screwed up as her current one – and he was most amused in the random bits of knowledge that she had gained from Xander.

"You're kind of a dork," she informed him wryly, feeling lighter than she had in ages after their talk.

Loki waggled his brows. "I go by many titles, fair maiden. Trickster, 'dork', sex god…the list goes on and on. In fact, I've shown you two out of the three – perhaps a full showing is called for?"

Her response was a pillow in her face as she laughed at his sputtering reaction. Loki was kind of a charmer but she never took his come-ons seriously – after all, she was a vampire and he was a god. However, they always did manage to amuse her.

Although sometimes…just sometimes…she liked to pretend that he was being serious, that he wanted her. A part of her longed to feel wanted after years of neglect and abuse…and sometimes she thought that Loki could maybe fill the hole that Willow left in her heart.

But while Loki may have become her moon – her constant nighttime companion who could make her spirits soar like the rising of the tides with his kind words and amusing antics – he wasn't her sun. Willow had been her sun so long ago and Lenore yearned to feel that warmth upon her again, to revolve around a pulsing, passionate love.

It was almost a constant struggle to remind herself each day that that she only had slightly less than three-hundred years to see Willow again.

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
March 21, 1707

Lenore was thumbing through a book on Norse mythology, written in Old Norse, and attempting to understand the archaic language that died out in the 1300s. After four years of companionship with Loki she still didn't know much about the pagan god. Finally today she had found this text hidden behind two other, thicker, books in Aramaic and was struggling to figure out her friend. He had left a couple days ago – suddenly without explanation, as he was wont to do – so she was seizing the opportunity to research him.

He may have hoped that she had forgotten, but Lenore still remembered his visit to the cellar beneath the church and his impressively pure and radiant aura. During his visit to her home he had asked her not to mention it to anyone, but that fact remained lodged in her own memory. Further complicating her musings about him was the fact that Castiel had a similar aura and had specifically said pagan gods possessed auras of darkness. Of course, now that Loki knew her penchant for aura viewing he had kept his carefully hidden so had not been able to further inspect it.

Scanning the Germanic words on the page, Lenore was unable to make out much on the section about Loki but she did understand the pictures. It seemed that Loki had children! There was one sketch of a thin woman, a wolf, and a snake that bore the caption 'Hel, Fenrir, and Jörmungandr'. There was also a picture of a beautiful woman and handsome man with the name 'Loki and Sigyn' underneath it. The pictures gave her pause – she knew that all the old gods had spouses and children but the thought that Loki did have a life outside of her made her feel weird, almost jealous but not quite. It more so confused her – after all, if this was his family then why didn't he live with them?

Hmm. The gods were very strange indeed.

She wished she could read this language. Then maybe she could better understand her friend and why his aura was different from other pagan gods. Even though their friendship had grown greatly over the last four years he never discussed his personal life. His tricks, sure, but nothing about his family or childhood.

"Honey, I'm home!" called out a jubilant voice, deepened by the mead that Lenore could already smell wafting off the returning trickster. He appeared in the middle of the living room and took a seat across from her, crossed his legs, lounged back, and smiled. "Interesting reading material, my dear vampire," he commented casually as he glanced at the book in her hands.

"I found it," she shrugged. Lenore honestly didn't know if Loki would care or not that she was trying to read about him – his mood swings, she had discovered, could be tricky things. Sometimes he was vibrant and carefree, other times solemn (especially when he was training her how to hunt and live as a 'good' vampire), sometimes angry, and occasionally a look of profound sadness would enter his eyes.

"Hmm." He sat up straight and caught her eyes. "I didn't realize you read Old Norse."

"I, er, don't. I was just looking at the pictures," she admitted.

"Find anything interesting?" he inquired.

Lenore wet her lips nervously. "Yes, actually. Loki did you…do you…have a family?"

Pain flashed through his bright eyes, but it was gone before she could barely make note of it. He took the book from her hand and gazed at the page she had been on. "These pictures always make me look like such a tool," he snorted. "I mean, is my nose that big?" he asked her.

"No," she smiled. "But it also makes you look a lot taller than you are, too."

Loki glared at her over the top of the book before he tossed it down next to him. "Honey child, I can appear in any form that I wish. If I wanted, I could have purple skin and bulbous pink eyes or be eight-foot tall and more muscle-bound that your average gladiator."

"So why this one?" she challenged him with a hand gesture.

"Throws people off," he shrugged with a smile. "Besides, I've been told that the ladies happen to enjoy the look of it. Your thoughts?" he asked with a sly smile.

Lenore rolled her eyes and tried to avoid blushing. Luckily she needed to go hunting today so it wasn't like she had a ton of spare blood to travel to her cheeks anyways. "It's alright."

"Just alright?" he feigned hurt as he covered his heart with his hands and swayed against the back of the couch. "You wound me, Miss Lenore."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine," she smiled. "So…does Sigyn like this form of yours?" she asked in an attempt to get back onto her original topic of conversation.

He sighed heavily. "So what, you live with me for a couple of years and all of a sudden you want to know my sob story?" he asked with a drawn face.

Lenore shrugged. "It's just, you never talk about yourself. And for the longest time I was too stuck in my own depression to really care, but now I'm interested." Which was true. It wasn't until after her vision of Gavin's death that Lenore began to overcome her own issues – of course, she is still a work in progress.

"My life really isn't that interesting, kiddo."

"Well that can't be true. Judging by the 'mead breath' I'd say it must be fairly interesting at times."

Loki laughed. "Oh yeah, yesterday was a good time. Dionysus and Eostre threw a huge day-long party to celebrate the equinox and _everybody_ was there."

"Everybody?" Lenore asked curiously. She found the idea of a gathering of gods most intriguing. The fact that the God of Wine and Revelry and the Goddess of Spring were the hosts was not surprising.

He winked at her. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Loki!" she protested. "Don't tease me – give it up."

"I haven't been called a tease since the incident with Luna down in Rome a millennia ago," he smirked. "So, you want to know more about the gods, eh kiddo? Have to say, I was surprised it took you so long to ask. You always were such a curious thing."

"Well, I didn't know if you would talk about it."

"You never asked."

"Oh, okay. Tell me, who was at the festival and what did they do?"

Loki cupped his chin and appeared in deep thought before he shook his head and stood up. "Naw, I'm not gonna tell you."

"What!" she shouted indignantly. "But you just—"

"—Uh, uh, uh," he wagged his finger. "I just said you never asked. I never said I would tell."

Lenore glared at him. "I remember wondering how Anyanka could always get so annoyed with you – now I can easily emphasize with her."

He smiled and playfully ruffled her hair. "See ya."

Then he once again snapped himself out of existence and Lenore was left alone wondering even more _why_ he never talked to her about his personal life. Was it because he didn't think she was a friend and didn't trust her? Or was it something else?

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
January 12, 1708

"I'm bored," Loki groaned as he stamped into the den like a petulant child as she laid on the couch relaxing.

Not bothering to look up from her intriguing book on protection spells Lenore replied, "Well go do some of your tricks on some poor, unsuspecting fool." On one hand Lenore did think his tricks – occasionally over the years he had talked about them – were cruel, she also usually approved of them since it was one of Loki's tricks that got rid of her wicked husband.

His sudden weight on her stomach made her go "Ooof!" and she gave him a deadly glare as he snapped the book out of her hands and set it back into the bookcase. "I hope you marked my page."

He rolled his eyes but didn't bother getting up. "Come on. The weather here is awful and I'm tired of the snow already. Let's teleport to Australia and go surfing! You can even try some new game – I heard kangaroo blood sure has a 'kick' to it," he snickered.

Lenore giggled and attempted to push him off of her. "No, Loki. You know I don't like leaving the area. So, I don't know, get off and find someone else to be your playmate."

Amber eyes glowed with mischief as he leaned in close to her face with an amused smile. "But what if I want you to be my playmate?" he said in a throaty voice that sent a tremor of excitement through her.

Shaking herself away from the very bad thoughts that she was imagining and knew that Loki had not _really_ intended, she suddenly sat up and Loki fell onto the couch. "Well that's all fine and good, except I'm not leaving the area," she said lightly, silently cursing him for teasing her. Loki was a natural flirt but as of late it was really starting to affect her – and she didn't like it. Lenore knew, after all, that Loki just saw her as a sister-type – he _had_ to, she assumed.

Loki pouted and gave her puppy dog eyes that flickered with sadness. "Come on, Lenore. You can't ignore the world forever."

Letting out a haughty sigh, she folded her legs underneath her body and leaned back into the couch. "And if there are humans around? Loki, you know I can't control myself."

Tilting his head to the sigh, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll never be able to if you don't start practicing. Think about it – if you practice your tolerance maybe you'll finally be able to return home and see your family. Besides," he added as he saw hope flicker across her features, "I'll be there. I won't let you hurt anyone."

The sudden hope that maybe he had a point, that maybe she could see her family again, made her agree quickly.

And surprisingly, it wasn't as hard to control herself as she had expected. Of course, that may have been thanks to Loki's support.

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
December 12, 1710

"Thordis, go!" Lenore shouted as she leapt ten feet in the air to swing up onto a branch and then began bounding from tree to tree.

The alpha female howled in agreement as she leapt up to grab her prize from the mound of packed snow and then began racing behind Lenore, who was careful not to outrun her friend. Her keen ears heard paws hitting the earth in ferocity so Lenore flew down, landing easily on her feet, and grabbed the attacking black-furred wolf around the middle before it could leap onto Thordis. Then Lenore let out a short howl and quickly Vigdis, Sigurdis, and Alva were flanking them as they raced to their destination.

A sounding howl from the other wolves reached her ears and she heard Thordis growl loudly. They were a mile from their target when Vigdis was taken down without warning by Dagur and Lenore had to fall onto her back just to narrowly miss Tyr's leap towards her. Alva attempted to capture the alpha male but the more experienced wolf easily evaded his attempts and instead locked his jaws around Alva's neck.

But Lenore didn't bother to watch. It was over for Alva. She had to stay on the mission.

Now it was Thordis, Sigurdis, and Lenore racing between tress and over heavy foliage. She could hear Tyr and Dagur swiftly following them and Lenore couldn't help but wonder where their third opponent lay in wait. Most likely at the destination, the bastard. She grimaced – he wasn't making this easy.

The snapping of teeth instinctively had Lenore somersault forward, easily missing Dugur's bite. Sigurdis was on him instantly as he faltered.

Thordis didn't even hesitate before he clamped his teeth over Sigurdis' leg.

Lenore cursed and made eye contact with Thordis. The wolf was agile and swift and Lenore would need both hands to fight once their final opponent came out of his hiding place, but it was also true that Lenore would have an easier time of outrunning Tyr.

Decisions, decisions.

They were near their final destination now, a mound of snow past the shadows of the tress. The ground suddenly collapsed underneath them and both the wolf and vampire fell four feet. Lenore cursed out loud as Tyr leapt onto Thordis' back and she swiftly snatched the prized object out of her friend's mouth and leapt straight up.

She was only twenty feet away from her prize when a gust of wind smashed into her and pushed her backwards onto the ground.

"It's just you and me now," he uttered in a deadly voice as he gauged her sudden fighting pose.

"Is this the winner take all fight?" she asked as her lips quirked up.

"Don't hold back," he warned with a wicked smile.

Lenore placed her stolen possession into the top of her boots and gave her opponent an amused smile. "Oh, I won't if you won't."

The two supernatural beings flew at each other and the world became a blur of arms and legs as she struggled to hit him. Lenore's fist flew forward but he leaned back on his knees and kicked up, although luckily she already leapt over him and was closer to her goal. Instinct drove her to duck as he suddenly appeared in front of her and did some martial art move that she just barely evaded. Now laying on the ground, Lenore propped herself up with her hands and swung her legs in a circle but she just barely avoided sweeping him under. His foot went to stomp on her and she was forced to roll backwards, and thus farther away from her goal.

She stood quickly. "You're holding back," she smiled.

"So are you," he grinned.

Their dance begun anew, with him trying to make contact with her and force her away from the mound of snow, and Lenore trying to touch him and/or leap over there. Finally she was getting fed up and tired so she pulled a trick from under her sleeve.

A wolf growled behind her opponent and he whirled in surprise, which allowed her to leap onto the mound of snow and plant her flag successfully.

The image of the wolf disappeared as Lenore threw her hands up and let out a howl of victory. Soon the entire wolf pack rejoined, with her side led by Thordis barking happily while Tyr's side gave wolfy smiles at the fun they had but clearly wishing they had won.

Loki, for his part, glared at her. "Hey! We never said anything about magic!"

Lenore leapt down and gave him a satisfied smile as she waved the flag in his face. "One, you never said we couldn't and two, you told me not to hold back."

He glared a moment longer before throwing his head back and laughing. He swung his arm over her shoulder and smiled. "_Finally_, you're starting to understand how to fight!"

Lenore laughed with him. As part of the plan to reintegrate her back into society so she could see her children again, Loki was teaching her both fighting and magic skills – after all, she may need them if she ever met up with the Alpha or any of his cronies again.

Of course, Loki _would_ be the one to decide that an excellent test of her skills would be in a game of Capture the Flag. Lenore went to her wolfy companions and sank to her knees as they nuzzled their faces against her body and she petted them gratefully. Seven years of helping this specific pack closest to her and Loki's home with their hunting had made her an accepted member of the pack. Loki, of course, already had some special relationship with this pack and was the one to teach her how to communicate with them. When Loki had suggested that the wolves play this particular game with them she had been skeptical but, judging by their reaction and Loki's face as he listened to Tyr, she had a feeling the wolves would want to play again very soon.

They both were pretty sore losers, after all.

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
February 14, 1714

The moon was a waning crescent high in the sky, thus allowing Lenore to take in the brilliance of the starry night. She was sitting at the top of their mountain peak – the nice thing about being almost un-killable was that you didn't worry about little things like heights – and observing the night in silence. A meteor streaked through the night unexpectedly and Lenore cheered like a little girl as more began streaking through the sky.

"Have you made a wish?" a voice spoke near her ear and Lenore involuntarily swatted the pagan god.

"Haven't you ever heard that it's impolite to sneak up on people?" she grimaced.

Loki chuckled and laid back onto the polar bear fur blanket that she had brought up here. "Let's see, if I don't count the nine-hundred thousand and eighty-four requests from _you_ then let's see…only twice, I think."

Lenore rolled her eyes but kept watching the meteor shower that her astrology had predicted. "I thought you were out for the day, what with Valentine's Day being a big day for you trickster types."

"Oh yeah, I had some fun today," he grinned – and she didn't think she wanted to know what was so fun. "But humans get boring at night when they're sleeping so I thought I'd come back home."

She looked away from the sky to smile at him. "Well, welcome home. And to answer your question, yes."

"What did you make a wish about?" he inquired as he turned to look at her; Lenore could always feel the heat of his gaze when he turned it on her.

Biting her lip, she reluctantly answered him. "That the year 2003 would come as quickly as possible."

"Ah," he sighed. "Your Willow." Loki knew all about her at this point in their friendship. At first she had asked if his culture was against her being in love with a woman or if he thought it was unnatural and he had only given her a sly grin and said that it was 'hot'. Then he had given her a more serious answer: that all the gods that he knew just cared if a couple loved another, gender wasn't in the equation in order to have their grace.

"Have you ever loved someone, Loki?" she queried curiously. "I know you explained once that you and Sigyn were more arranged than anything else and never see each other anymore. Have you ever met anyone else?"

Loki was quiet for a long time and Lenore began to feel guilty for asking – he was still notorious about his privacy.

"I fall in love pretty easily," he admitted.

"Anyanka?" she guessed.

"Nah," he answered. "A 'fun' kind of girl, if you get my drift—"

Lenore snorted in amusement.

"—But not really the one for me."

"Then who?"

He was silent for another moment. "I had quite the affair with a goddess from the Hinduism pantheon but it's been about fifty years since we've talked to each other."

Wow. Loki was actually opening up to her! "How long did you date?" she asked as she laid on her side and watched him with interest. He was right next to her, his breath could be felt on her face, and she watched every flicker of emotion that crossed his face – Lenore couldn't help it, she was cursed with curiosity.

"Date?" he smirked. "I don't know if you could call an on-again, off-again affair of a thousand years _dating_."

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Jeez, you're kidding me!" she gasped.

He laughed and leaned over on his side to look her in the eyes. "That's what it's like to be immortal, kiddo. Everything about your concept of time and life changes in its expectations."

"Wow," she mused. "That's crazy," she repeated. "So what happened to you two?"

Chuckling, his brow lifted in amusement. "Do I look like I'm a giggling schoolgirl between the ages of fourteen and sixteen?" he inquired.

She bumped her leg casually against his. "Come on, it could be like a sleepover!" she laughed.

"A…what?" he asked with a puzzled expression.

"In my past life we had those. It can be for anyone but usually it's a group of female teenage friends who spend the night at one girl's house and stay up all night gossiping and eating junk food."

"So…not sleeping? Then why is it called a sleepover?"

Lenore started laughing at his befuddled expression that was lit with the cool silver reflections of the moon with an occasional burst of warm reflection from a shooting star. It always made her happy when she understood something that the ancient god didn't.

"Are you laughing at me?" he pouted. "Do I ever laugh at you when you don't understand something?"

"Uh, yes," she snorted. "How about all the time?" Then she started laughing at him some more, just for good effort.

"Why you—" he mock snarled before he laid his leg over both her legs in order to effectively capture her and then began tickling her sides.

Damn. She may be a super strong vampire but tickling was still her weakness. She began laughing uncontrollably as she struggled underneath Loki but his pagan strength far outweighed hers.

"Stop! Stop!" she struggled to say in-between giggles and she was grateful when he paused. Now, after her struggles and attempt at wrestling away from him, he was completely on top of her. Loki's legs straddled her legs and his upper body pressed against hers. They were both panting from exertion, their faces only a few inches away from one another.

"Do you give up?" he smirked.

His smile disarmed her for a moment and suddenly all that she was aware of was his nearness.

"Yes." Her eyes bore into his and she wet her lips nervously. "Please let me go, I give up," she added when he didn't move and a serious look entered his eyes – a look that scared her because it threatened to disrupt her entire world.

"And if I don't want to?" he murmured as he face dropped down just a couple inches and his lips hovered above hers.

Her heartbeat began accelerating and she stopped thinking – she couldn't think!

Thank God, she was saved from her world imploding by a loud whistling noise and a meteor crashing into their mountain, causing the ground beneath them to shake and Loki to fall off of her.

The rest of the night they spent apart, for which she was grateful. She had no idea what had happened or almost happened but just chalked it up to Loki being his weird flirty self and her being alone on Valentine's Day when she missed Willow so much.

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
May 7, 1714

Lenore woke up around five in the evening and, after getting ready for her day, strolled out into the den. The fireplace was already lit – no matter how warm it may be outside it was always chilly in here and they both liked the heat – and the room was empty, but Lenore heard Loki moving around somewhere. Shrugging, she went to her favorite couch, sprawled out, and began reading a spell book written in Sumatran – yes with a lack of a personal life and a lot of free time on her hands over the last eleven years Lenore had begun picking up some new languages.

Old Norse was still a pain, however.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Loki shouted as he popped into the room, and suddenly ten men with musical instruments began playing the 'Happy Birthday' song as Loki sang in his unique off-tune way.

In this case, 'unique' was a nice way of saying he sucked at singing.

When Loki and the musicians that he had created out of thin area finished, Lenore clapped her hands and smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Loki. But are vampires even supposed to celebrate birthdays?"

Loki snapped his fingers to make the musicians vanish and plopped in the seat across from her. "You say that every year and every year I tell you I don't care," he rolled his eyes. "Anyways, happy forty-second birthday!"

She shook her head in dismay at his refusal to go without celebrating even the most minor of days – Loki loved an excuse to party – but she was smiling regardless. "Thanks. Let me guess – you're going to make me celebrate?"

Don't get her wrong – Lenore used to love celebrating her birthday…when she was alive. Now it just seemed so silly.

"Yes," he grinned as he rubbed his hands furiously together. "I'm taking you on a trip to India to go tiger hunting. Then I'm going to make you a tiger-skin rug and bring back the meaty goodies for the kids." The 'kids' he referred to were his pet name for their wolf pack. "Then I was thinking an epic game of Capture the Flag – Tyr and Thordis already agreed. They've got some yearlings that they want to test their strength, so it's a good deal for them.

She smiled in spite of herself. "Alright, that sounds like fun. I'll go change."

"Excellent! Wear a fur bikini or something."

Lenore gave him a well-school look of annoyance. "Why on earth would I do that, Loki?"

He shrugged and gave her a sheepish look. "It's, er, what they wear in India. Or so I've heard."

Her response was to telekinetically send a throw pillow flying at his head before going to her room, smirking at his muffled cry of "Hey!"

A moment later as she was in her room changing, Lenore heard a knock on the outer door. That was odd. Only dressed in her underwear, Lenore leaned close to the door to listen to the new arrival. No one _ever_ visited Loki – who could it be?

"What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously as the cavern door scraped open.

A velvety woman's voice answered him. "I was called long ago. I thought it was time to visit."

"No. Not now."

"Why?" the woman asked in amusement. "Don't you want to share your pet?"

Silence. Then, "She's not mine to share."

"Good."

Confused, Lenore hurriedly got dress and had to make an effort to calmly walk down the hallway and into the den. She looked towards the door and the sight before her stole her breath away.

There, standing ever-so casually was a woman of Indian descent with dark brown skin and thick black hair that curled around her shoulders. Full lips were curved in a secretive smile and her eyes were lined with kohl and featured black irises, interestingly enough. She was garbed in a traditional Indian dress, a sari, that was trimmed in gold thread and such a deep blue that it was almost black. As Lenore stared at her clothing longer she could almost feel herself falling into something, into another world, where it is dawn or perhaps it is twilight, but regardless of the time of the world there exists only the woman before her.

Her name exits her mouth so softly and so suddenly that Lenore almost doesn't realize that she is the one speaking.

"Kali."

**

* * *

**

A/N

A very long chapter – my apologies. I just couldn't separate into two different chapters so I hope y'all don't mind at the length.

Please let me know what you think! :D

_References_:  
* Research done on **wolves** was primarily from here: http:/ . org/wiki/Gray_wolf  
*** Eostre: **Anglo-Saxon Goddess of Dawn and Spring – http:/www. goddessaday. com/western-european/eostre  
*** Luna: **Roman Goddess of the Moon - http:/ www. goddessaday. com/roman/luna (*sighs* Okay yess, I also used this goddess because it's my user name and Loki is oh-so pretty ;)  
*** Nordic names** found here: http:/ .  
* **Kali: **Hindu Goddess of Eternal Energy, also: Goddess of Destruction – http:/ . org/wiki/Kali


	13. Into the Abyss

Into the Abyss

**A/N  
**

Warning: Femslash-ness. Although, if you're reading a Tara-centered fic you really shouldn't need a warning…

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
May 7, 1714  
_

In the corner of her eyes she saw Loki glance at her in surprise but Lenore's true focus was the being in front of her. The being whose aura was blacker than the darkest night, but it is not one of malevolence but simply one of existence, saying to her that Kali is beyond the reach of normal comprehension.

Kali gave her a gentle smile and Lenore felt her heart lighten as if the goddess' smile granted feathers to her sorrow-stricken soul. "Lenore."

Her voice was husky and low and sent all sorts of shivers below. A spark flared within the core of Lenore's being and an ache spread through her body.

"Uh, since when did you two know each other?" Loki asked with interest as his amber eyes darted almost nervously between the two women.

Lenore doesn't answer him because she _simply doesn't know_ but Kali speaks and for that she is grateful.

"When Lenore was in the process of her transformation into a vampire she meditated on my mantra." Her right brow rose slightly in – what? Surprise? Amusement? – "I do not often receive glory from Westerners."

Recognition sparked suddenly:  
_  
Om Krīm Kālyai nama__ḥ__ ,  
Om Kapālinaye Namah,  
Om Hrim Shrim Krim Parameshvari Kalike Svaha _

Lenore bowed her head humbly and suddenly she felt like Tara Maclay during her freshmen year of college all over again, tongue-tied over the exquisite red-haired woman who had attended the Campus Wiccans group. "M-my mother had a book of the goddesses w-when I was young, Goddess. The chapter on your being always fascinated me and I memorized the mantra. When I was trapped by the Alpha it was the only mantra that came to mind when I needed to meditate in order to focus on something other than the Need." Of course, that specific mother had been the great witch, Sarah Maclay.

Head still bowed, Lenore only saw Kali's sandaled feet approach her slowly with provocative steps that both excited and scared her. Two smooth fingers were placed under her chin and gently lifted her head up. Immediately Kali's black eyes locked onto Lenore's and it took all of her focus to not fall into the abyss that existed beyond them.

"It was I that starved off your transportation, my child – no human has ever denied the transformation that long without indulgence or death finally taking them. I heard your thoughts past the _Maya_ and in that moment of your immersion into the mantra I claimed you." Kali sighed heavily and the smile slipped off her face. "Had the Alpha not arrived and cut off my carefully hidden ties to you, then perhaps you would have survived long enough to find a cure."

"There's a cure?" Lenore found herself asking even as her heart and head are wondering what it meant to be 'claimed' by a goddess.

Loki spoke up as he stepped closer to them. There was something about the way he spoke that made Lenore think that he wanted to remind the both of them that he was still here and that he shouldn't be forgotten. "Yes, there is a cure. It's not easy, however. You have to use the blood of your Maker _before_ you feed."

"Oh." Lenore felt her eyes stinging with tears at the realization that her life could have been different, that she could have had a chance – even as she knew that stealing the Alpha's blood would have been next to impossible.

A tapered, tanned finger gently wiped away her tears and Kali placed her tear-coated fingers into her mouth. While Lenore did not understand why the goddess would want to taste her tears, she also felt a part of her heat up at the erotic sight and suddenly she was wondering what it would be like to touch Kali…

Dark eyes caught hers and Lenore caught a twinkle in them, like a distant star far into the blackness of outer space. "Loki, I need to talk to your," she frowned as she tried to think of the most appropriate word, "pet, for a moment. Alone." The last word is stated in such a final way that Lenore doubted the Goddess of Eternal Energy was ever denied of her desires.

Loki frowned and Lenore found herself curious as to why he seemed so upset. "Kali, no. Go play your games somewhere else with some_one_ else."

She revolved towards him in a languid manner, like a tiger in the heat of the jungle acknowledging another predator that stumbled so foolishly into her hunting territory. "Loki," she stated in a warning tone. "Please do not interfere. Besides, do you hear the girl denying my request herself?" she added coolly, casually.

The air suddenly felt suffocating as she could tell that the two pagans were testing each other with their powers. Loki gave Kali a pained look and then finally shrugged his shoulders. "Fine," he stated without vehemence, as if he didn't really give a damn one way or another. "I need to catch up on my tricks, anyways. Later." Then he was gone; snapping himself out of the cave.

And leaving her alone with Kali.

Lenore swallowed heavily as Kali turned towards her. Her throat was dry and her palms were sweaty and Lenore didn't know what to say or what to do or what Kali even wanted of her.

Kali took Lenore's hand in hers and led the girl to the couch nearest the fireplace. She sat down and crossed her legs demurely and Lenore copied her behavior. "You probably wonder why after I'm here."

She answered "Yes" but that is not her primary question, truthfully. The question foremost in Lenore's mind is _why_ does this goddess make her feel the way she does right at this moment?

The goddess' fingers began combing through Lenore's long, dark hair and she let out a shiver of delight as every nerve in her scalp tingled. "You were not ready for me in the beginning. You had to overcome your other battles first – Loki was best for you then."

Lenore nodded. Yes, she could understand that. In the past eleven years Loki had helped her face who she truly was – a vampire – and helped her to control her urges and learn how to fight against attackers.

"But when you called out to me thirteen years ago, Lenore, I saw into you. I saw your soul living through two different lives and you intrigued me. Few have seen through the _Maya_, the grand illusion, yet you have." Kali's head cocked to the side and a slight smile came to her face. "You have the most haunting blue eyes, Lenore."

"T-thank you," she stuttered under the goddess' stare.

There was silence for a moment as the two of them stared into each other's eyes. Kali broke it when she asked, "What do you see when you look at me?"

Lenore wet her lips nervously, a bad habit of hers, and tried to find the right words. "Goddess, when I look into your eyes I see the abyss – that which is the beginning and the end, all wrapped into one."

"Does it scare you?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully. "But I also find it fascinating. I find you fascinating," she corrected herself.

Kali allowed herself a small smile and Lenore got the impression that the goddess didn't smile often enough. Which was a shame because when she smiled it reminded Lenore of Willow. Their lips were not the same, no. But the feeling that Lenore got from witnessing it? The same.

"Come," Kali said as she stood up and held out her hand. "I have something to show you."

What could Lenore do but take it?

_

* * *

_

Calcutta, India  
May 8, 1714

Moments later they were standing on the banks of a river tinged green by algae and the humidity hit Lenore so suddenly that she gasped. The air was thick and the smell of spices hung heavy in the air like a perfume. Although it was early morning here, it was still quite hot. Lenore turned slowly to examine where they were and saw a small temple a hundred feet away off the foot of the river banks. Dozens of people wearing saris or tunics and loose-fitting pants were flocking around the temple and their intermingling chants rose into the air like a symphony of luscious sounds.

"What is this place?" Lenore whispered. For some reason it seemed inappropriate to speak loudly at this place of worship.

"Kavi Kankan Chandi – my temple."

Lenore looked to the goddess in surprise but Kali only stared straight ahead at the burgeoning crowds. The expression on her face was one like a loving mother; serenity holding back a powerful sense of protectiveness.

Kali began walking forward and Lenore, with her hand still being held by the goddess, followed her. "I brought you here to show you something. These people," her hand gracefully gestured towards them, "are not so dissimilar to you."

Lenore frowned, not quite understanding. "Are they vampires as well?"

Her lips twitched into the remnants of a smile. "No. Is that how you identify yourself primarily, Lenore?"

"Well, yes," she answered uneasily. "I am a vampire."

She waited for Kali to say something but the goddess was silent.

"I mean, I am damned now, I suppose. I've become one of the things that I used to hunt. My bloodlust outweighs my common sense. Now, after a few years of practice, I can control it to an extent, but not enough that I'd trust myself around a human that matters." Her children, for instance. "Others must die in order for me to live," she added sadly.

"All who live must die," Kali commented matter-of-factly.

Lenore looked at the goddess in surprise at her callous response. "That doesn't mean it's okay for me to kill them!" Her voice was hushed because a part of her feared this being but her outrage led her to respond this way regardless.

Kali glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and Lenore got the impression that she was amused. "What is the purpose of life?"

Lenore frowned. On one hand she didn't understand Kali's comments and she was getting frustrated. On the other hand she knew that there had to be something more to what the wise goddess was saying but Lenore just couldn't comprehend her greater meaning.

"The purpose is…to help others. To live a good life," she answered at last.

Kali stopped at the outskirts of the crowd and turned to Lenore. "Souls enter a cyclical pattern of life and death, but it is what they do in-between the two that matter most and will shape their next life."

She ran Kali's words through her head as she sought to understand. "So…if I am cursed in this life than I must have done something wrong as Tara in my past life. Why else would I be forced to suffer this way?"

Sighing, Kali cradled Lenore's cheek. "All souls are caught within the never-ending cycle. The sun will always rise and set just as the moon will do the same. But what came first: the sun or the moon?"

"I-I don't know," Lenore mumbled as a feeling of vulnerability passed through her as Kali's eyes watched her intently.

A soft smile graced her face. "You do, but that knowledge is not yet needed." She brushed lips as soft as a rose over Lenore's lips, and the vampire shuddered in response. Lenore's heart leapt in her chest and for the first time in this lifespan her knees weakened from a simple kiss.

"Come. I want you to meditate at my temple."

Lenore's eyes widened in alarm. "No!" Kali arched a brow. "I just mean…" Lenore bit her lip and lowered her voice. "I can _smell_ them. I don't want to, er, eat any of your followers."

"Focus on my mantra and you will not." Kali gestured for her to join the huddling masses but Lenore hesitated. Finally after a long moment Lenore let out a deep breath, began internally chanting, and joined the crowd.

_'Om Krīm Kālyai nama__ḥ__,  
Om Kapālinaye Namah,  
Om Hrim Shrim Krim Parameshvari Kalike Svaha' _

The smell was overwhelming. Succulent and sweet, their blood mixed into the heavy, humid air and Lenore felt as if she were swimming through blood. The tips of her fangs jutted out, but Lenore contained them.

_'Om Krīm Kālyai nama__ḥ__ ,  
Om Kapālinaye Namah,  
Om Hrim Shrim Krim Parameshvari Kalike Svaha' _

She could do this. Kali believed in her. And call her crazy, but the fact that Kali believed in her meant a lot. The memories of being trapped in the Alpha's prison assailed her for a moment as she thought about the first time that Kali brought her peace. When Lenore had begun meditating to drown out the bloodlust she had involuntarily picked Kali's mantra – it had just come to her. During those meditations she had been able to starve off the bloodlust but Lenore never realized that divine intervention had been the cause.

It was making her question everything now. Did anything in her life happen by chance?

Lenore knelt at the altar for a long time and meditated. Her head cleared of all thought and she simply _was_. Her existence became a blinking star in the solar system, surrounded by the billions of souls that existed on this plane. Souls that lived, souls that died, and souls stuck somewhere in-between.

The image came suddenly, breaking her peaceful meditation without warning.

Her brother's soul screaming in agony strapped on a rack in the depths of hell. Fergus twisted as a silver dagger began peeling off his flesh in long strips by a spirit that was blacker than the darkest night.

Lenore woke with tears on her cheek. It was dark out and all the other worshipers were gone.

"You saw past the _Maya_, past this world," Kali commented softly as she knelt and softly brushed the fallen tears off her cheeks. "What did you witness?"

"My brother, in hell." Lenore squeezed her eyes tightly. "I knew he was going there but I never understood what that really meant for him. So often preachers speak of fire and brimstone but I don't think I ever really understood the meaning of hell."

Kali held her close against her soft breasts and Lenore clung to the goddess with all of her strength. "Can I save him?" she finally asked.

Kali's hand ran through Lenore's locks and her voice was soft. "You carry with you the ability to save all you love, Lenore. It just may not be in the way you imagine."

"How can I save Fergus?" she asked as she pulled back. Although as soon as she pulled back she was already missing the feel of the goddess against her.

"A sister's love is enough."

Angry, Lenore stood up. "But what does that _mean_? You give me riddles but what I need are answers! Fergus is my brother and I've already failed him once – I won't again."

Kali's eyes flickered in surprise. "I've angered you."

Lenore was silent, her stony façade answer enough.

Kali sighed. "I am death and destruction but therein lies my grace. I cannot brush aside the _Maya_ so easily, even for a supernatural creature." Her own face froze for a moment before anger flashed across her features. "Even I can be tricked by the _Maya_."

But then her expression became serene and she stepped closer to Lenore. Her beauty was intoxicating, but it was more than just her appearance that appealed to Lenore. It was her essence, her aura. Kali was a black hole drawing her in slowly, a shining star all alone in the universe, and no matter how much Lenore could try, she would never be able to pull away.

More so, she didn't want to.

"Your soul calls to me, be it named Lenore McLeod or Tara Maclay. There is a likeness to you that I find in myself and…I am find it most compelling." The right hand of the goddess slowly laid a trail down Lenore's arm and the vampire shivered.

Kali's head cocked to the side and spoke in a throaty voice that heated the spark that flared when she had first seen the goddess. "May I have you?"

Lenore licked her lips in surprise as she discerned the meaning of those words, and then her heart flared with warmth at the sudden feeling of what it was like _for a partner to ask and not to take._ She blinked back the unexpected tears and nodded as she tentatively cupped the goddess' cheek with her own hand.

"Yes."

_

* * *

_

Reine, Norway  
May 9, 1714

Lenore was in a deep slumber when Kali teleported them home. She was slightly roused from sleep when Kali set her in her bed but her senses alerted when loud voices made it past her fog of sleep.

Feeling quite content, Lenore stretch out on her bed like a cat; perhaps feeling the most relaxed than she had felt in her entire life. But she could hear Kali and Loki arguing so she stilled her heartbeat so the pagan gods would still think she was slumbering, and then listened carefully.

"You had no right Kali, _no_ right!"

A spiteful laugh. "No one _gives_ us the right, Loki. We take it."

"No. I've been taking care of Lenore for too long to let your presence disrupt her recovery."

"I am not disrupting her, I am aiding her."

"That's my job!"

A pause; Lenore heard soft footsteps and then a low voice. "And just _why_ is it _your_ job, Trickster? She called out to me long ago; she is mine."

"Oh really? Then where were you all these years? Why come now?" he snarled.

"Oh, you know how easily I lose track of time, Loki," she sighed in a burdened voice.

"I think there's a different reason for your sudden appearance, Kali," he hissed.

Following an extended moment of silence Kali spoke in an amused tone. "I never would have figured you for the type."

"What type?" he asked cautiously.

A snort of laughter. "The jealous type. It doesn't suit you, Loki."

"I-I'm not jealous!" he sputtered defensively.

Oh God. Lenore realized now just who Kali was to Loki…this was the goddess that he was in love with. What had she done?

"I know you better than you know yourself."

"I doubt it."

"Think what you will," Kali stated lightly, and Lenore could hear the smile in her voice. "Regardless, Lenore told me last night that she wants to learn from me."

"What?" Loki asked in a stricken voice.

"Loki, come now. Did you really expect her to stay in this cave of yours forever? The girl has a purpose in this world. I will help her find it."

Loki's voice was softer now, hurt. "But…she's happy here. And her purpose, it'll only end in destruction."

The memory of Tara's tarot card reading flashed through her mind's-eye – The Tower, herald of chaos and destruction. Fright gripped her tightly as she wondered what Loki meant…and if he knew something then why didn't he tell her?

"Therefore it is more appropriate that she learn with me." A mocking laugh. "Don't worry, Loki. I'll take _good_ care of her."

The ground shook; an earthquake. Lenore leaped out of bed and ran into the den to see the two pagan gods staring at each other, one with a look of amusement and the other a look of hatred. Loki's fists were curled and his body tense while Kali casually stood, uncaring about his display of power.

"What's going on here?" Lenore tentatively asked as she looked from one god to the next.

Loki strode to her quickly, angrily. His power pulsed in the air, thick like a constricting snake, and Lenore became worried.

"So one night with Kali and now you want to leave? Is my home not good enough for you?" he asked with cold eyes that cut into her very soul.

"No, no. It's not like that Loki," she tried to assure him. "I just, well, Kali said she could teach me how to find my path and I just want to learn from her. That doesn't mean I want to leave you!"

"You can't live here if you're _with_ her," he angrily spat out, and Lenore felt like she had been slapped.

"Loki, I'm sorry," she said in a tightly controlled voice, lest she start crying from the look in her friend's eyes. "I didn't realize that Kali was your lover, the goddess you were talking about. I didn't mean to hurt you – I would never hurt you."

Hardened amber eyes ruthlessly assessed her. "Well, you did." His lips curled into a mocking lopsided smile. "But that's my fate in life, isn't it? To get betrayed by those I love," he said as he glared at Kali.

She merely rose her eyebrows in defense.

Lenore drew close to Loki and grabbed his hand impulsively. She could feel her friend drawing away from her and in the pit of her stomach she was _afraid_. The thought of losing Loki, especially over such a petty thing, scared her more than she could have ever imagined.

"Loki, please," she pleaded. "You're my best friend. Please forgive me."

His eyes softened as pain washed over them and he shook his head sadly as he pulled back. "You even _smell_ like her," he muttered painfully as he yanked his hand away from hers.

"Kali, you win. Take her," Loki stated forlornly with one last look in Lenore's direction. Then he snapped his fingers and Lenore was flung into Kali's arms and both of them were expelled from Loki's homes.

She swore that she could hear the wolves howling mournfully as they departed into the abyss.

**

* * *

**

A/N

So…I'm not sure how some of you Loki fans out there may like this chapter…but there's a reason behind everything…*smiles nicely* Thoughts, please?

Thanks for reading!

_References_:  
***Maya: **in the simplest of terms, means 'illusion' – http: /en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Maya_(Hinduism)  
*I always give credit where credit is due – **Christopher Pike's 'The Last Vampire'** (re-released under the name 'Thirst') book series has greatly influenced how I see Hinduism and my affinity for it. I read the first book in the 4th grade (yeah, I know I was way ahead of my reading level at that age) and thus its shaped my perspective of Kali, Krishna, Radha, etc.  
***Kali's Temple: **http:/ . org/wiki/Kalighat_Kali_Temple  
***"No one **_**gives**_** us the right, Loki. We take it."…and "I never would have figured you for the type." **– semi-quote from Lucifer to Baldur in 'Hammer of the Gods', S5 of SPN.


	14. There Are Worst Things in Life…

There Are Worst Things in Life…

**

* * *

**

_Calcutta, India  
November 5, 1717_

She speaks before Lenore even has an opportunity to protest. "You are ready."

Silent, Lenore only nodded and looked out into the valley of the Hooghly River. Her sharp eyes took note of the Kali's devotees preparing the Kavi Kankan Chandi Temple for the Festival of Kali Puja. There are ten of them hanging red hibiscus flowers – Kali's favorite – and lanterns. None of them realized that their beloved goddess overlooked them and Lenore wondered what they would think if they knew the truth.

But past the temple and down the river there are demons that are preparing to disrupt tomorrow's festival. These creatures are unlike anything she saw during her time with Willow and Buffy. All bore braided hair tied back with the dried human skin, each had eyes that glowed red with hate, and their stature of seven feet towered over all living beings in this valley. Their weapons were the sharpened ribs of human victims and they were garbed in animal skins – tigers and wolves for the most part.

Lenore wondered what it said about her that she was more angry about their wolf victims than their human ones. Perhaps Kali had been correct – she _was_ starting to lose touch with her human side after fourteen years of being isolated from them.

A malevolent smile twisted the features of her lover's face as Kali gestured below. "Tonight I shall once again dance on the bodies of demons."

Then they were both running swiftly through the trees. Kali could teleport whenever she desired but Lenore knew that she loved the hunt almost more than she loved the kill. Over the past year and a half she had begun teaching Lenore many things – primarily Kali's own version of the Kama Sutra for the first three months. But Kali's true lust for life was in death and destruction and Lenore quickly discovered that her new lover was a demon slayer at heart.

It amused her to no end how one of her college courses on World Religions painted Kali as more demonic than anything else. Kali was in fact the slayer of the Indian sub-continent, along with many of her brethren, and was responsible for wiping out the unholy populations that desecrated their land and murdered their people. Her most famous slaying was the demon Raktavija who had been impossible to kill for years due to his magical boon that whenever a drop of his blood spilled he was replicated. It was not until Kali drank every drop of his blood and devoured his duplicates that he was finally killed.

After learning that, she understood a bit more what the goddess had in common with a vampire like Lenore.

As Lenore waited in the tall reeds near the river she eyed the twenty demons that were boasting of their plans. Their leader was the demon Sumbha, brother of the deceased Raktavija, who wanted revenge against Kali and plotted to take it in the form of murdering her thousands of followers tomorrow.

Needless to say, Kali had not been happy when she had discovered his plans.

Lenore's mind tickled and she knew it was Kali signaling her. Like lightning, she struck the nearest demon without warning and cleaved his body in two with her ruby-encrusted broadsword – a gift from Kali. Battle cries were sounded and both females went to work hacking away their opponents – and in Kali's case sometimes ripping their heads off of their bodies.

Kali had declared soon after she had taken Lenore from Loki that Lenore needed to share in Kali's love of demon hunting. After all, Kali had seen during their moment of mental connection back in the Alpha's prison of Lenore's past life's adventures demon hunting with the Scooby Gang and thus knew that Lenore would be an excellent companion for her. Lenore had been unsure in the beginning. It was only because of her need for blood had she become a hunter of animals – she was not a death dealer at heart. But Kali had been persistent – er, in many NC-17 rated ways – and Lenore had complied.

She was surprised by how good she was at it…and she kind of even liked it. Was that the demon in her? Or was this an untapped aspect of her human personality, as both Tara and Lenore? She wasn't sure…thinking about such things made her head ache with uneasiness.

Kali's laughter rang out into the air like a thunderclap and the earth rumbled as she delivered a powerful kick at Sumbha and he was thrown onto the ground. Lenore quickly went to work on the remaining three demons as Kali spoke in a blood-filled voice.

Yes, another fun fact about Kali that Lenore discovered is how much the pagan goddess enjoyed the taste of blood. Blood and raw flesh were her snacks of choice – very much unlike Loki yet more in tune with Lenore's concept of a pagan god.

"Sumbha. You were a fool to come here, to my center of power. Your lust for revenge has shrouded your judgment," Kali spoke in a frosty matter-of-fact tone.

Sumbha stood up and raised his four arms, each gripping a sharpened rib-dagger. Dozens of pointed teeth gleamed under the full moon and he laughed in return. "No, you are the fool, Kali. You think that your dalliance with this vampire went unnoticed?"

Lenore looked at the demon sharply as she killed his final remaining minion.

Kali's anger wilted the grass around her, leaving her standing in a perfect ten foot diameter of brown grass. "Do not speak of what you are not worthy to voice, demon," she seethed.

Suddenly four arms gripped Lenore tightly around the middle and the vampire dropped her sword. She groaned out loud as her ribs were broken in the constrictor hold.

"Don't move, Kali," Sumbha gloated. "Or my brother will kill her."

"Nisumbha," Kali greeted coldly as her powerful arms hung limply at her sides. "I thought that Sumbha was the only one resurrected."

"You thought wrong," the demon behind her hissed happily. "That message you received? It was meant to draw you out, Kalika."

Kali bristled at him referring to her by the name of her darker aspect. "And what is the plan now? To kill me?" she scoffed. "That is beyond your reach."

"You consumed our brother and we know that all things consumed by you live within you," explained Sumbha as he carefully stepped closer to Lenore and his brother. "Bring him back."

"You must think me a fool," Kali laughed outright. "That plague of humankind can never be released."

Nisumbha squeezed tighter and Lenore gasped as she felt a broken rib rip through her right lung. "Are you willing to bet your lover's life on it?" he sneered.

Lenore's watery eyes met her the goddess' and Kali's gaze softened as she looked at her lover. Their bond was unique and the time spent with Kali were the happiest of her cursed existence. However, they never exchanged words of such things – Kali hated 'sweet and sappy' – but Lenore knew that the goddess loved her.

What she didn't know is if she was willing to bet her life on it. She trusted Kali but the Goddess of Eternal Energy had a much different viewpoint on death than most – Kali did not see it as a bad thing.

Kali's gaze hardened as she looked at the demons. "Lenore is a phoenix – from her flames will come ashes and the cycle of death shall continue."

_Phoenix_. That was her pet name for Lenore. She was trying to tell her something…but Lenore was in so much pain that thinking was difficult…One of her ribs had subtly pierced her heart just a centimeter but it was enough to weaken her and cause mind-numbing pain. The pain was so hot that it felt like she was on fire…

Fire.

Lenore caught Kali's gaze and winked, just as Sumbha let out a roar of frustration. "Fine then. Nisumbha, kill her!" he cried as the demon surged forward at the goddess.

Using ever last bit of magical power available to her critically ill body, Lenore concentrated and flames roared over her skin – a fun trick she had known as a human and one that Kali helped her to perfect. Nisumbha wailed in pain and released her. His body was more flammable than a half-breed vampires and as Lenore directed all the flames from her body to his, he erupted into a fiery inferno that ended in ashes.

Sumbha stabbed at Kali savagely while she just laughed and evaded his fury-fueled endeavors. "I'll kill your whore!" he swore.

A dark and savage look flitted across her face as Kali cut off all four of his limbs with two strokes and then cradled his skull in her hands. "Do not speak ill of Lenore," she chided in a murderous tone. Then she slowly squeezed his head – for Kali it wasn't a 'fun' kill if there wasn't pain involved – until Sumbha's head went *plop* like a wet, juicy grape.

"And take that!" Lenore laughed weakly from his position laying in the dry grass. His chest blossomed with pain and the color red danced in front of her eyes. Kali grabbed her hand tenderly.

"It hurts," Lenore whimpered.

A cool hand laid over her forehead. "This too shall pass, my Phoenix." Kali picked Lenore up and cradled her against her chest. "I shall take you home now to recover."

"Kali," she managed weakly as her vision began darkening. "Would you have let me die?" Lenore was afraid to ask, afraid to know the truth – that Kali meant more to her than she did to the goddess – but her heart cried out for that knowledge regardless.

"I may be your lover, but I am not your God. Your soul does not follow my ways and thus I would be restricted from seeing you in the afterlife," she sighed sadly, in a way that made Lenore realize that Kali had given this great thought. "And I if I cannot see you in the afterlife then I can only see you on this side of the _Maya_. So no, I would not have let them kill you."

The goddess turned her eternal gaze onto Lenore and smiled softly. "After all, I love you."

Lenore smiled through watery tears of mixed pain and joy.

_

* * *

_

_Liberton, Scotland  
April 11, 1729_

Rain trickled softly from the skies and the fresh water mixed with the tears on her cheeks. She stood silently outside Elspeth's home, cast in shadows, as she watched her grown children through the windows. Somewhere in there Elspeth was dying – Lenore had seen visions of it during her mediations – and there was nothing she desired more than to see one of the most important people in the world to her before she passed.

Of course, Elspeth had kept her word from all those years ago – the house was covered with impenetrable wards that blocked out all demons, including Lenore.

A warm hand was placed on her shoulder. "I can momentarily disrupt the wards so you can enter. Would you like that?"

Lenore gave her a thankful smile. As soon as she had received the vision Kali had offered to take her back home. Lenore was wary of being around her family but after spending more time with humans in the last couple years and following Kali's mantra she felt more confidence than before. "Yes, please."

As Kali went about the deactivation spell, Lenore kept her eyes, nose, and ears focused on the house. She could smell the decay of coming death and knew that her cousin did not have time. However, it made her happy to see the house full of people and Lenore knew that Elspeth would leave this world loved. It was apparent to her that Elspeth had kept her word – she had raised Lenore's children as her own.

Her heart warmed as she saw her three children – all in their twenties and thirties – hold each other close in the kitchen. The hug was brought on by one of the girls crying and Alexander comforting them both. She could hear what they were saying and the names they called each other by, but it was Lenore's ability to see their auras that identified her children to her.

Alexander was a strapping man of thirty-four with a brilliant red and purple aura that hinted he was well-versed in magic and combating the forces of darkness. Idly she wondered what exactly he did. His jaw was strong and his eyes dark, but he had a smile that lit up the entire room and Lenore knew she had been correcting in naming him after Xander.

Elizabeth was a dark-haired beauty but her face was solemn and the worry that creased her features made Lenore sad. It appeared that Elizabeth had a heavy weight upon her shoulders and Lenore thought there had to be more to that than Elspeth's illness. Her aura was such a light blue that it was almost white and Lenore was curious what her daughter was like.

And Dawn, the youngest of them at twenty-nine, had deep blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, much like her father. While she was sad now Lenore got the impression that her daughter was light-hearted by nature. When she moved it was with confidence. That, combined with a dusty red and brilliant purple aura, made Lenore very curious as to what her daughter was like.

She could tell that all three of them had powerful magical abilities and reckoned that Elspeth had taught them well. Likely they had been warned of their demonic mother so Lenore would have to tread carefully during this visit.

The snapping of wood cracked through the air so loudly that Lenore thought it was thunder at first, but realized that an old crone of a woman had emerged from the center of the willow tree in the backyard. "Who dares to disrupt these words?" her voice boomed, thick with power.

"Hecate. I should have known you were responsible for this," Kali stated in an even tone.

Hecate gave the other goddess and Lenore a suspicious look. She walked from the tree and with each step the lines slipped off her face until she was a young woman. Her hair was a mass of red curls and she was dressed simply. "Kali. What on earth are you doing here?" Her tone was emotionless and Lenore wasn't sure if this goddess was friend or foe.

"I need to see someone. It is only for a moment."

"Then go. But the _demon_," she hissed, "is not permitted. The four witches inside completed many spells worthy of my protection."

"That's my family!" Lenore shouted suddenly. She was so close, so achingly close, that she couldn't turn back now. "I've prepared myself for twenty-eight years for this moment! I've harnessed my need and I am ready now. I won't hurt them, I swear it." Her fists were clenched close to her sides and her jaw tightened as Hecate looked her over.

"So. You're the new little pet of the gods these days. Lenore, is it?" she smiled – but it was not a terribly nice smile.

Not knowing how to respond to that she simply answered, "I am Lenore, yes."

"You may have a soul and _think_ you are not evil, but that's just a lovely façade my dear. I know evil – women have been requesting my power for centuries to both protect against evil and do evil – and I see it within you. You are not worthy to pass my wards."

"Hecate," Kali said in a low voice. "I myself vow that I will not let her harm one of the humans you have granted protection too."

"I haven't drank from a human since I was ran away from the Alpha," Lenore added. "I refuse to take a human life."

"Life can be taken in many different ways, Lenore. You don't need to kill someone to end their life."

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"A single bite of your venomous jaws will transform a person into something like you."

"I would never do that!" Lenore declared indignantly.

"You say that now. But what will you do when you see your loved ones, your family, dying all around you?" Hecate asked with a neatly trimmed eyebrow rising in amusement. "You are young and thus untested. Besides, no demon of your nature has managed to survive without dealing death for long."

Lenore paused and her shoulders slumped in response to the Greek goddess' words. She had never thought of that. But she would never turn someone – would she?

"Please," Lenore begged. She had to see Elspeth again. To apologize, to explain, to hold her again. Just something!

Hecate sighed loudly and folded her arms across her chest. "You give your vow?" she asked Kali.

"Yes."

"In return I demand a favor from each of you – to be called on by me whenever I wish."

Kali hesitated. The granting of favors to other gods could prove disastrous sometimes. "I agree to your terms."

"As do I," Lenore supplied.

Hecate waved her arms and Lenore felt the magic in the air evaporating. "Go and be quick about it."

Lenore went without another word.

Lenore flittered from shadow to shadow in the house until finally she stood in the darkened corner of Elspeth's bedroom. Her surrogate mother was no more than a shriveled prune with deathly pale skin hung in loose folds over her thin bones. Her mousy brown hair lay around her shoulders and appeared recently brushed; its shine was evidence that Elspeth was being well taken care of.

Easily laying a silencing charm over the room so no one could overhear them, Lenore stepped from her hidden spot and the creak of a floorboard announced her arrival.

Weary brown eyes glanced in her direction and the surprise on Elspeth's face was evident. She opened her mouth to scream but Lenore was sitting at her side in a moment with her hand gently laid over her cousin's mouth.

"Elspeth, please," she begged. "Do not be afraid. I would never hurt you."

"You killed Fergus, your own brother!" Elspeth accused in a croaking voice once Lenore took her hand away.

"No," she shook her head. "That was the night his demon came to collect his soul, care of two hellhounds that I tried to fight off – but failed."

Those eyes that Lenore bitterly remembered as loving now narrowed at her in a mix of loathing and fear. "Then why were you drinking his blood, demon? I know about your kind. My Lenore was killed the moment she was turned. Her soul is gone now."

"Elspeth," Lenore sighed in frustration. "That is only true of the half-breed vampires – I'm more demon than 'real' vampire. I have a soul. I'm still me. And I didn't kill Fergus…but I was a young vampire back then and the smell of the blood did drive me to temporary madness," she tried to explain.

Elspeth's eyes squinted as she shook her head. "No, I don't believe you," she stated but there was something else in her tone – hope that maybe she was wrong. "Now leave here and don't harm the children!"

Lenore dropped her face into her hands and choked back a frustrated sob. "Elspeth, how can I make you believe me? I left you all those years ago and failed to argue my innocence because I _was_ a danger at that time. I was young and foolish and a slave to my bloodlust. But I've only drank from animals since then and meditation has helped me to concentrate on ignoring the need for human blood. I swear upon the lives of my children!"

Elspeth was silent so Lenore turned to her with tears in her eyes. "What must I do, Elspeth – what must I do?" she asked her former mentor sadly.

"If you are truly Lenore then you know my stance on demons. If you want to prove your innocence then you will leave – leave and never return. I've told the children about you and they know how to protect themselves against all sorts of demons. In fact, Alexander and Dawn are Hunters who help protect our lands against your kind. So, demon, know that you are known here. Nothing you say can change the truth."

Lenore's eyes slid shut with a silent wail of agony as she processed Elspeth's matter-of-fact but hurtful words. She stood silently and looked down at her dying cousin, her dearest relative, with love and compassion. Logically, Lenore had expected this sort of speech…but emotionally she had been hoping for a different reaction.

"As you wish, my dearest cousin. I will love you always," she whispered. Lenore bent down and brushed her lips softly over Elspeth's clammy forehead. The scent of Elspeth's blood wafted up to Lenore but it took no effort to ignore it – her bloodlust was cordoned off by the emotional pain of this situation. "May God protect you and take you into his grace."

Elspeth's tired eyes caught Lenore's and she saw a softness flicker within them for a moment, but her cousin remained silent.

Lenore deftly climbed out of the window and jumped down from the second story. Landing easily on her feet she glanced once more at Elspeth's window and then turned to make her way back to Kali.

Yet surprisingly there was a figure in her way – Elizabeth. Lenore's throat closed up as she wondered if not one but two rejections would greet her homecoming.

"Mother," Elizabeth greeted in a calm voice.

Lenore was taken aback. "Y-you know me?"

Elizabeth nodded and her solemn expression momentarily brightened. "Of course."

Then Lenore remembered Elspeth's words. "Ah. Because of what Elspeth told you?"

"No," she responded with a small smile. "She did tell us about you but I never really believed it, unlike Dawn and Alexander."

"Why not?" Lenroe asked warily as hope flickered within her heart.

"Do you remember the day that Castiel first visited us, mother? How I knew what he was?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth smiled shyly. "I know things. Sometimes they come to me in a dream or a vision. I also have a talent for seeing auras – Elspeth told me that you did as well."

"That I did," Lenore smiled, proud that her daughter had inherited her traits. Her daughter was so beautiful in her unique way and suddenly just looking at her made Lenore want to cry with happiness.

"I can see you – truly see you for what you are." Noticing Lenore's pained expression she elaborated. "Yes, I can see that you are a demon. But there is a light within your aura that shines of heroism and goodness. Elspeth is wrong – you are not evil."

"Oh, Elizabeth," she sighed happily as she drew nearer to her daughter. "Your words bring me great peace."

Elizabeth smiled softly but her calm expression cracked as Lenore approached her. A well of sadness shone through her eyes and she bit her lip to keep from crying. "Oh mama, I wish that you had been here. I've missed you so much."

Fluidly Lenore slid over to her dear grown daughter and held her close, rocking her slowly back and forther while murmuring loving words. After a while she pulled back and tenderly pushed back a stray hair that was hanging in her daughter's face. "My dearest daughter, my beautiful sweet Elizabeth, I am so proud of you. Proud of your talents and your wisdom. I wish I could have been there for you. I'm sorry that I failed you," she said tearfully.

"It's okay, mama," Elizabeth said in a small voice as she stared into her mother's eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, my darling."

"Elizabeth! Where are you?" Alexander's voice rang out into the night. "Elspeth needs us – I think her time is coming."

They both looked towards the front door from where Alexander was shouting – luckily he did not notice them in the shadows of the oak tree. Lenore sighed and hugged Elizabeth tightly again as Alexander went back inside. "I should go. Take care of your cousin and siblings and children," she said with a tight smile.

"Do you…do you have to leave? What if I explained everything to Alex and Dawn?" Elizabeth suddenly looked as young as she had when Lenore had left and it broke her heart.

"No, my darling," Lenore shook her head. "It will be better if I am away. I bring danger with me – I do not want to bring it upon your families."

"But—"

Lenore laid her finger over her daughter's lips. "I love you." Then Lenore fled into the night and forced herself not to look back. She couldn't look back. Because if she did she would have seen her entire family and maybe would be selfish enough to make the decision to stay…but Lenore realized that living with her mortal family and watching them die one by one would be worse than never seeing them again.

Much worse.

* * *

**A/N:**

Please review! I'm not going to lie, I've had a rough day and could use some positive feedback. Er, unless you hate this chapter...I don't want you to lie, lol.

Regardless, reviews are always good :) Thanks for reading!

_References_  
*Kali Puja is a festival to celebrate Kali. Originates in Bengal and Calcutta is currently in the Indian state of West Bengal, formerly Bengal before India took it: http:/ en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Kali_Puja  
*Demon that Kali killed, the one she's famous for: http:/en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Raktabija  
*The brothers of Raktabija: http:/ . org/wiki/Sumbha_and_Nisumbha


	15. Laying Foundations…

**Laying Foundations…**

_

* * *

_

May 7, 1729  
Calcutta, India

Lenore sat at the window, unblinking, as she stared over at the Hooghly River. Soft moonlight illuminated the small cresting waves and she thought it was a very peaceful sight. Yet, its presence did nothing to dispel the cyclone of grief within her.

Elspeth's passing had been less than a month ago but Lenore was finding it incredibly difficult to make peace with the death of the woman who was such a fundamental aspect of her human life. Her daughter Elizabeth's acceptance of Lenore did improve her spirits yet the realization that Lenore could never make contact with her family – lest she irrevocably disrupt their lives – saddened her greatly.

A warm hand came to rest on her right shoulder. "Lenore, my darling. I have a gift for you."

Lenore glanced up in Kali's warm eyes and shivered in spite of herself. Even after fifteen years with the Hindu goddess she was still surprised by how much she loved her. Their connection often felt destined to Lenore – at this point in her life she just could not imagine coping without the goddess. Kali had taught her so much – magic, philosophy, languages, hunting – but more so she had made Lenore remember what it was like to be loved…something she had only previously experienced with Willow.

It was because of her great love for Kali that Lenore forced a weak smile in her direction. "Kali, I am not much in the mood for gifts," she sighed.

Kali frowned and her delicately shaped brow rose slightly. "Today is your birthday, my love. More importantly, today marks our first meeting fifteen years ago."

Lenore lowered her eyes shamefully. She knew that Kali could not really comprehend the loss that Lenore was feeling – the Goddess of Eternal Energy understood the cruel logic of the world: that all who live must one day die. The wheel of life was relentless in its pursuit of balance in the world and it was a harsh truth to accept.

Currently, Lenore was not really accepting this harsh truth.

Kali sank to her knees before Lenore's sitting form and gave the vampire a sweet kiss on the forehead followed by pecks on both cheeks and then a final lustful kiss on the mouth. Her hand came to cradle Lenore's cheek and she leaned into Kali's touch. "I know you grieve, my darling. But today is a day of celebration. Will you give that to me?"

Feeling guilty, Lenore nodded. "I'm sorry, Kali. You would think by now I would be used to death," she shrugged slightly.

"The passing of Elspeth has been hard on you, I know. Even more so after your cousin decided not to accept your explanation. But remember the words of your daughter – she saw a light within your aura that shines of heroism and goodness. Do not prove her wrong."

Lenore's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Kali cocked her head to the side and gave Lenore a long look. "For fifteen years we have hunted demons together in my lands. You have proven yourself to be all that your daughter said. However, since our return from Scotland you have become withdrawn. If you cannot find the strength to leave our home then how can you further do good in this world?"

Mouth agape, Lenore was at a loss for words. Her initial reaction was to bristle at Kali's speech – after all, if she wanted to grieve for her cousin then she very well could! – but then she bit her lip as understanding began to pass through her mind. "Perhaps my daughter thinks too highly of me, Kali. I do not consider myself a hero by any means."

Kali gave a graceful shrug and gestured out the window. "I imagine there are many out there who are thankful for your demon slayings, my love. And your life is yet young. There is much more that you can accomplish."

Letting out an incredulous laugh, Lenore shook her head. "Kali, I am no Buffy. I don't imagine myself to be this incredible fighter, although you are kind to say so."

Standing up and crossing her arms, Kali gave Lenore an exasperated look. "Your lack of self-confidence is occasionally enduring but currently irritating. I assure you that no soul is ripped through the fabric of time such as you without possessing an important part to play in the world."

Lenore frowned and defensively crossed her arms as well. The problem with 'dating' an ancient being was that Kali could make her feel like a child at times – just as Loki had before. "But what role? Hmm? I've asked you before and you've never answered me – you know I heard Loki's words about my purpose ending in destruction and you agreeing. Tell me, what is it?" she asked irritably.

This was an old fight of theirs; one that would arise ever year or so. Kali feigned ignorance but Lenore knew there was something more. The goddess was not omniscient but during their moment of mental connection in Aurelius' dungeons, Kali had seen everything her soul had experienced in both Tara and Lenore's lifetimes. Coupled with the fact that Kali did have seer abilities, Lenore assumed she knew more than she was letting on.

Her lips pressing together in a thin line, Kali shook her head. "I have told you – I do not know. I can only assume that a fallen prophet of the Lord turned demon would be faced with dark trials. Such curses often involve such things."

Lenore looked away from her lover and out the window. "That is not an answer."

Through the window she saw black clouds roll in swifter than a tsunami wave as nearby lightning struck the earth with a resounding clap of thunder. Startled, Lenore looked up at Kali and saw the goddess' hands curled into fists and anger emanating dangerously from her.

"As of today you have lived fifty-seven years yet you are still no more than a child!" she shouted. "I swear, those years with Loki made you regress to be as immature as he is!"

Jumping to her feet, Lenore glared at her lover. "Oh, of course. I'm 'just a child' and thou art so wise, Kali," she huffed sarcastically. "Maybe it's because you treat me like a child at times! Withholding information and whatnot. Maybe I would have been better off staying with Loki!"

Kali's black eyes widened and the goddess looked stricken. With a deep breath she schooled her features and sneered slightly as she spoke in a calm voice. "Fine, go then. Go to your precious Trickster. I know that your heart misses him."

Lenore blanched at Kali's words – she had never brought anything like that up before. "Well, o-of course! He is –was– my best friend!" she sputtered indignantly. "And I gave him up for _you_." Her heart panged; thoughts of Loki were incredibly bittersweet. She had not spoken or heard from him since he expelled Lenore from his life.

"Unfortunately it is the only part of my plan that has gone as desired!" she muttered angrily.

Pausing, Lenore gave Kali a deep look. "What do you mean by that?" she asked in a soft voice.

Kali seemed surprised, as if she had not meant to utter that line in the heat of their argument, and tried to wave it away. "It meant nothing." She turned to leave the room but Lenore yanked her wrist and spun her around before pressing her against the wall so she couldn't leave.

Dread was filling her chest like acid, threatening to erode everything that Lenore had based her new life on. Did Kali not love her?

"I will not ask again Kali – what did you mean by that?" she asked in a dark voice that trembled. "What was your '_plan_'?

The goddess closed her dark eyes and a single tear leaked, dripping silently over her right cheek. Kali's clear remorse at what she was about to say only further worried Lenore. "Tell me!" Lenore urged.

"When we…connected…long ago during the time of your transformation, I saw you. I saw who you were as Tara Maclay and who you had been thus far as Lenore McLeod. I was interested in you and your uniqueness at that point. When I felt through our thin connection that you were with Loki, I decided to bide my time until a later point to come for you."

"Why?"

Kali opened up glistening eyes to look directly at Lenore. "He…betrayed me. I wanted to make him feel the pain of betrayal as well."

Lenore back away in shock. "So…you…_used_ me? Used me to get back at Loki?"

Kali raised a hand to touch Lenore but the vampire jerked away. "Yes, that was my purpose initially. But after meeting you…there was something more to it. I fell in love with you, Lenore – that was not in my plan. Yet it occurred nonetheless."

She took a shaky breath and struggled to stay calm. So Kali did love her…but her original purpose in stealing her away was to only slight Loki, to make him jealous that his lover was taking his new friend to her bosom. Lenore did not know what to think about this.

Strong hands gripped her arms and Kali's magnetic stare forced Lenore to look up at her goddess. "My original plan to hurt Loki does not change the past fifteen years we have experienced. I _love_ you, Lenore. That is not something that comes terribly easy to me. In my long life I have only truly loved my consort Shiva, Loki, and you. With the first two I have spent hundreds and thousands of years with – but with you it has all been experienced within the blink of an eye. In spite of that I have still come to love you. You _are_ special to me."

Her words lightened Lenore's heart considerably but she suddenly felt a new round of guilt for the role she had played in hurting Loki. Yet, she did love Kali.

Lenore sighed. "It saddens me to think of your success in hurting Loki, but I forgive you…I love you, too."

Kali gave her a soft smile and sealed their words of love with a deep kiss.

It wasn't until much later that Lenore realized she never learned just what Loki had done to betray Kali.

_

* * *

_

March 15, 1738  
Calcutta, India

The brick three story building that Lenore and Kali were approaching was quite impressive. The British presence in India had been growing rapidly since the East India Trading Company had formed their headquarters in Calcutta and the architecture of this building represented that. It was located in the bustling English-speaking part of the city and the street was swarming with humans. It was late afternoon so Lenore wore a headscarf that matched her green sari so that way the bright sunlight would not soak up too much of her energy. Kali wore a blue sari – her favorite color – and parted through the crowds easily. It was almost as if the humans understood on some level that Kali was indeed a higher being that should not be touched.

At that moment a British man, wearing khakis and a loose-fitting button down shirt, stumbled into Kali and began apologizing profusely. "Good madam, my apologies. I can be a clumsy fool at times – especially in the face of such great beauty," he smiled.

Kali sneered and killed him by breaking his neck with a flick of her wrist. She continued walking as his corpse fell to the ground and Lenore struggled to catch up.

"Kali! What on earth are you thinking?" Lenore questioned in surprise. "How can you just kill a human on a busy street in the middle of the afternoon."

"He displeased me," she replied as they reached the ornate cherry wood doors of the brick building. A well-dressed man in black standing next to a gold engraved sign that said _'Wolfram & Hart'_ opened the door for them and they entered.

Lenore shook her head and frowned as their footsteps clicked over the marble floors. "Kali," she hissed quietly, so that the dozen humans milling around couldn't hear them. "That behavior is unacceptable. All he did was bump into you!"

Kali whirled around on her. "After almost twenty-four years you should be accustomed to my ways, darling. Besides, I saw into that man's soul. He works for that damn East India Trading Company _and_ is betraying his wife by keeping a mistress. Now with his death his wife will inherit a good fortune and his young son will be able to grow up without the negative influence of a distant father, thus keeping the young boy from a path of wickedness." She raised one elitist brow. "Is that acceptable to you?"

Lenore sighed in irritation and reluctantly nodded. "Yes." The contrasting morals of her human memory, vampiric nature, and relationship with the Goddess of Destruction were often mind-numbing at times. The multitude of greys that made up her world made her long for the days of black and white from her childhood.

Kali smiled and gave her a light kiss. "Even if you are wrong, it does not always displease me when you question me. Most are too frightened to try and I find it refreshing." She glanced at a man approaching them who had slicked back hair and a finely tailored suit. He looked sweaty and nervous at their arrival and Kali let out a low laugh. "Of course, I do rather enjoy it when others are frightened."

The man gave a low bow and was careful not to make eye contact with either Kali or Lenore. "Kali, great Goddess of Destruction. We are honored by your presence at our humble law firm. My name is Augustus Manners, CEO of the Calcutta branch of Wolfram and Hart. How may I be of service to your Excellency?"

Kali gave him a cold, assessing look and Lenore had to be careful not to laugh at the man's clear fear at being in contact with a pagan goddess. "I spoke to a representative of yours – a Ms. Padma Patil. She knows what I require. I will speak to her."

"O-of course, Goddess. But, well, you see, I am the CEO in charge here and it is customary for me to handle all of our important clients. Ms. Patil is just a low-ranking office clerk," he struggled to explain as his sweating palms rubbed together.

Kali took a threatening step forward and caught his eye. Augustus' mouth widened in horror under the full weight of her stare. "I find it already foul that you Westerners have desecrated my land and set up shop here. I will not further embolden you by speaking to foreigners. I require that I speak to a person of my land and I have chosen Padma Patil." When Augustus' pale face did nothing but just stare back at Kali she hissed, "_Get her_".

Immediately Augustus backpedaled and hurriedly bowed along the way. "Of course. Whatever you desire, Goddess."

Lenore smirked at her lover. "Was that really necessary?"

Kali tossed her a sly smile. "No, but it was fun," she laughed darkly. "Besides, I am truly tired of these Westerners. I would be tempted to kill them all if it wasn't for what I saw in your future as Tara – that my people would become stronger than the chains that hold them and fight peacefully for their land, and spark such revolutionary thoughts that the world will change." She smiled in a bittersweet way. "Yes, someday it will be with it."

"It will," Lenore agreed as she leaned into Kali and wrapped an arm around her waist. She knew that it grieved Kali to watch silently as the British control over her people grew greater with each decade. "It is a shame that you won't get a chance to make them pay yourself," she added.

"How do you know I won't?" Kali smiled secretly.

Dumbfounded, Lenore asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your memories of history textbooks stated the work of Mohandas Ghandi would spark my people's revolution – I may very well have a hand to play in it."

Lenore frowned. "But…" she trailed off.

"But I am not mentioned?" Kali laughed. "Darling, I doubt your textbooks will know of my work.

"Well, yes," Lenore smiled sheepishly. "But what I was thinking was that Ghandi and other succeeded in gaining their independence from Britain. So if you know that they'll already be successful then why would you help?"

Kali clucked her tongue and tapped Lenore's temple with two fingers. "That is why time travel is such tricky businesses, my love." She smiled. "The Butterfly Effect is often unpredictable. Perhaps the reason why my people are successful is because I give aid to them, all because I learned through our psychic connection what was to occur."

"Oh." Lenore mulled that over. "That does make sense…it's just rather complicated."

"Indeed. Food for though," Kali smiled mysteriously.

"Goddess, how may I be of service to you?" a petite dark-skinned Indian woman addressed Kali. She wore a traditional sari in vivid colors of oranges and reds.

"Padma," Kali greeted her with an endearing smile. Padma was a devotee of Kali and that was how Kali knew she could trust the woman to help her. "Do you have the items that we discussed?"

"Yes, my Goddess," the woman bowed humbly. "Right this way."

Padma led them to a conference room where two clay jugs sat on the polished table. They sat in cushioned chairs of red velvet and the Wolfram and Hart woman began speaking nervously.

"I retrieved the Holy Oil for you through our connections with a family of djinn in Jerusalem. They are authentic; our local sorcerers have concurred on that fact."

"Thank you," Kali said as she laid a warm hand over Padma's. "You have served me well, my child. I hope that your future in this office will be brighter thanks to our connection."

Padma blushed. "Thank you, Goddess. I do hope so, but Mr. Manners was fairly upset at being overlooked by you. However, I hope it will be enough that the Senior Partners will notice my work."

"Indeed," Kali smiled.

Kali had explained the background of Wolfram and Hart to Lenore the previous day. They were an inter-dimensional law firm ran by ancient demons. Branches of their office were located in each major city in the world and they specialized in all areas of darkness – from dealing with human criminals to demons and even occasionally settling the odd pagan god dispute. Besides their law work Wolfram and Hart were adept at procuring unusual objects and thus for this reason Kali had sought them out.

With the explosion of British nationals into India they were bringing Christianity with them. The density of Christians was sure, as Kali figured, to bring Angels with them. Since, as far as they knew, Castiel still wanted to kill Lenore, Kali wanted to prepare for any angelic arrivals. The Holy Oil, when poured around an angel and lit, was able to bind them – if they tried to leave the circle their human vessel would be destroyed. Kali had also showed Lenore another trick on expelling angels from an area that used human blood to draw a Enochian symbol, the ancient language of the angels.

Apparently Kali and the other pagan gods were not terribly fond of angels and had painstakingly created these traps ages ago. Nothing was more powerful than an Angel of the Lord and more than a couple pagan gods had met their final death at the hands of one. Only these tricks were capable of protecting someone from an angel.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Padma asked with the fervent glow of a true devotee ready to do anything Kali required.

"Yes," Kali responded as she glanced at Lenore. "My companion would like to open an investment account. She is immortal – a vampire – and wishes to set up an appropriate account."

Padma's eyes brightened – Lenore figured that immortal bank accounts were a major bonus to the supernatural law firm. "Of course, my Goddesss!" She turned to Lenore with her a bright smile. "What are your investment interests?"

Lenore gave her a wry smile. She felt silly to be doing this – after all, she had never heard of Angel or Spike having a bank account – but Kali had talked her into it. Kali's wealth came from her devotees and sheer power, but Lenore would need monetary wealth since she was only a vampire.

Well, a vampire and quite the powerful witch after practicing the craft for about fifty years, but it was Lenore's decision long ago not to reveal her powers. She was already fairly well known because she was Kali's demon lover – a true mystery for those that actually knew Kali – and she enjoyed having surprises up her sleeve in case someone tried to bring harm to her or Kali.

"I have some funds" – thanks to Kali – "that I would like to invest in Franz Ketterer of the Black Forest," Lenore explained as she laid two heavy bags of god onto the table in front of Padma.

"Oh, okay," Padma agreed, confusion evident on her face. " A Mr. Franz Ketterer you said?"

"He is going to invent a unique clock this year and I want to invest in his business," Lenore smiled. She knew that this girl likely thought her crazy for such a strange request but thanks to her (as Tara) late mother's love of cuckoo clocks, Lenore knew a great deal about them.

"Also, I'd like to invest in the American colonies. I'm not sure what exactly at this point" – Lenore wished she knew more American history! – "so I would appreciate your firm's assistance in finding good companies.

"The American colonies?" Padma's nose crinkled in confusion. "But my Lady, wouldn't you rather invest in a British company? The Americans are still a savage land," she explained in a stage whisper.

Lenore laughed. "Yes, well, I trust things will turn out well for them," she smiled enigmatically.

"Oh, yes," Padma nodded several times. "Of course my Lady, I did not mean to question—"

Kali silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Fear not Padma, you have been more than accommodating to us." Kali picked up the two jugs of oil and smiled kindly at the woman. "Thank you for taking care of our business."

"Yes, thank you," Lenore smiled at the woman who looked stricken with joy by Kali's attention.

"Yes, of course my Goddess, my Lady," Padma bowed. "I would be honored if you thought of me for your future needs at Wolfram and Hart."

"We will be sure to do that," Kali smiled as they walked out of the door, many pounds of gold lighter and two jugs of Holy Oil heavier.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:**

From me to you, this chapter is a prezzie for you!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! If you don't celebrate Christmas then I hope you have fun on this one day of the year when everything is bloody closed, lol ;)

Reviews are a nice way to celebrate the holidays… ;)

Thanks for reading!

_References_:  
*_Wolfram & Hart_ is the law firm featured throughout the 'Angel' series. They are pretty evil but are helpful to the supernatural community so it made sense for Kali and Lenore to use them. The Senior Partners are the unseenpure demons who operate every W&H branch from another dimension. (. com/wiki/Wolfram_%26_Hart)  
* _djinn_—popular culture calls them genies and they are supernatural creatures from the middle east (http: / . org/wiki/Djinn)  
* _Ketterer_ invented the cuckoo clock (thank you Wikipedia for listing the inventions of every year!) http:/ . org/wiki/Franz_Ketterer


	16. Newfound Purpose

_August 20, 1745  
Calcutta, India  
_

Flashing lightning illuminated the towering mortar and brick walls surrounding the interior buildings of Fort William, the base of the English East India Trading Company. Torrential monsoon rains fell from the skies in buckets and the few military personal stationed on top of the walls could barely see more than five feet in front of them. Rolling thunder deafened the guards and interior personal, making it impossible for them to hear one another.

It was a perfect time to sneak into the base.

Kali and Lenore deftly leapt to the top of the rain slick walls and then smoothly jumped down to the other side like jungle cats. Without words they made their way to the Government House in the center of the fort. Few men were stationed outside due to the weather but they knew there were supernatural creatures here that disliked the rain no more than they did. Yet it was with skill or luck, or a healthy combination of the two, that they arrived without trouble at their destination.

Lenore inhaled deeply outside the door of the Government House. "There are four humans inside, at least two demons, and…" A worried look crossed her features. "Three vampires…my own kind."

Kali gave her a careful look. "You have not crossed your own kind since your escape. Are you prepared for such a confrontation?"

Her fingers shook slightly but Lenore nodded 'yes' anyways. The scent of her own kind brought back a flood of memories from her days as Aurelius' enslaved personal prophet and it made her feel suddenly ill.

"Good," Kali nodded, but not before she squeezed Lenore's hand for good measure. Then she kicked the door open – she loved making an entrance – and used her telekinetic powers to throw each being against the wall. Lenore slammed the door shut behind them, stood to Kali's right side, and surveyed the room.

Two men wore traditional British military garb but the other two wore professional business clothes – they likely were the men working for the East India Trading Company. Near them were two of the most beautiful women that Lenore had ever seen – and the ones with most foul aura that she had ever witnessed. They were female rakshasi demons that had the ability to change their shape into gorgeous women. Rakshasis preferred to eat babies and pregnant women, but were known to commit all matter of horrid crimes. Needless to say, they were certainly on the 'slay' list.

To Lenore's right were the three vampires. Two of them were dressed like Company men in tailored suits; British by origin with a haughty look that came attached to men of noble birth. The third appeared to be British as well but he was dressed like a commoner in comparison to the other two. In addition he bore a purple bruise under his left eye. What disturbed her most about this third man were his piercing blue eyes that locked onto hers; they flared with hope at her arrival and struck a chord within her that she didn't quite understand.

"Gentlemen, demons," Kali stated coldly with a matching smile. "I am the unfortunate bearer of bad news today."

"Who the hell are you, you dirty whore coming in here—"

Flames burst from Kali's fingertips and the one businessman burned to ashes within less than five seconds. The other humans and vampires quaked with fear but the rakshasis feigned an ambivalent attitude.

"I just _hate_ being interrupted," she announced dryly as she set her black eyes on the other occupants of the room. "As I was saying, I am here to bring you ill tidings. You see," she began as she casually strolled around the room, "I heard that you – the foul British – have teamed up with this group of demons. Apparently you've promised these beasts one hundred Indian souls in exchange for more power for your little company." Kali rose one haughty brow. "Is this correct?"

"Get away, Kalika!" one of the rakshasis hissed malevolently. "You have no business interceding here!"

"Oh, I don't?" Kali laughed mockingly. "You seek to make deals in the backyard of my power center and think that I have no right to intercede? You are a fool, Foul One."

"What if we propose a deal?" offered one of the well-dressed vampires. "The East India Trading Company gives _two_ hundred souls and half of them will go to you?" He gave Kali a genial smile and Lenore fought not to roll her eyes at his stupidity.

Like Kali was even in a need to make deals.

But for the sake of dramatics she pretended to ponder that proposal before a wicked smile lit up her beautiful features. "I think not. Lenore, kill the vampires. I will take care of the others."

To give them a sporting chance Kali released all the beings from her telekinetic hold and the fight began in earnest. The rakshasis were powerful fighters and Kali always enjoyed a challenge. Lenore gave her vampire opponents a grim smile while she silently cursed her lover for forcing her to combat her own kind. Just even seeing them made her have flashbacks of Aurelius raping her…

Without really thinking about it her sword sailed through the air and cut off one vampire's head. Hmm. Perhaps Kali had indeed made a wise decision – this was making her feel a bit better!

The second vampire, the one who had made the proposal, bared his fangs at Lenore while the third surprisingly hid behind a desk. Prioritizing her foremost threat, Lenore deftly wielded her sword but was surprised to see that there was more to this vampire than talk. He moved skillfully around her in a deadly dance that made Lenore wonder just how old he was.

"You are _vampire_," he sneered. "What are you doing with this pagan? How dare you go against your own kind!"

She avoided his front kick but he managed to knock her sword out of her hands; it clattered onto the desk. "My own kind?" she snarled. "You disgust me with your murder of innocents. You are not one of mine!" Lenore struck the other vampire's nose with the heel of her hand and thick blood began to drizzle down his face.

"Traitor! What kind of fool vampire doesn't murder?" he asked with a mocking laugh as he grabbed her hand before she could punch him and snapped her wrist. Lenore let out a hiss of pain that turned into a groan as he kneed her in the stomach and then the face. He threw her against the wall and then crouched over her sputtering form as she tried to wipe the blood from her eyes.

His hands gripped her neck tightly and Lenore felt her throat close up. "I'm going to pop your head off like a dandelion," he chuckled evilly.

Lenore was about to use a wordless spell on him when her sword whistled through the air and cleaved the vampire's head off. Standing above her was the third vampire who bore a pinched expression of worry as her sword swung to his side. She wrenched herself free of the dead vampire's cold fingers and stood up slowly.

"Thank—" she started to say but then had to scream as Kali's enraged form descended upon them and tried rip the other vampire's head off. Lenore had to grab the goddesses arms and push her back. "Kali, stop! He saved me," she explained.

Kali stood up, covered with the blood of the three humans and two demons, and stared at her in surprise. "Saved you? He is vampire. He must die."

Lenore glanced back at the other vampire and his sky blue eye caught hers again. Fear was evident in his eyes, as well as confusion. She carefully took her sword from him. "What is your name?"

He licked his lips nervously. "They call me Eli."

"Eli, how long have you been a vampire?" Lenore inquired.

"Two months, ma'am. I was sent here as an indentured servant to these men at the Trading Company. Turns out they, er, weren't men though." He appeared ashamed by his words.

"They turned you?"

"Yep. Said they needed a servant and couldn't trust me if I was just a human," he explained sadly.

"Lenore, enough talking," Kali snapped in irritation. "Men will come by to check on their superior officers soon so we must leave. Kill the vampire and be done with it."

Lenore turned to her lover in shock. "B-but he is innocent! They turned him against his will."

"Do you think there are many vampires who request the transformation? No. They are all mostly changed against their will. For that matter the evil demons we slay are born into their wicked lives and do not, essentially, choose their path yet we till slay them. Just as you must slay this abomination of man," Kali explained in a tired voice.

At the word _abomination_ Lenore flinched. "Is that how you think of _me_?" she asked in a small voice, akin to a young girl who just learned that Santa isn't real.

Kali gave her a pained look and shook her head. "Of course not, my love. You are different."

Lenore glanced back at Eli, who appeared very worried about his imminent future. "But why am I special? I am a vampire just like him. Eli," she addressed him. "Do you want to drink human blood and kill?"

Eli blanched for a moment as he mulled over her words before he shrugged. "It tastes…wonderful…but I feel wrong when I do so – it's like I can hear my priest's voice in my head. But…isn't that what we are supposed to do? Drink blood?"

"You can live of off animal blood. I could show you," she stated eagerly. Lenore hadn't expected to make all of these promises to this strange man but they were now just flowing off of her tongue like sweetened molasses. Perhaps it was because Kali thought Eli was better off dead, perhaps because Kali had subtly showed Lenore (unintentionally, of course) that Lenore was just as bad. Regardless, the offer was made.

"I don't want to die," he said quickly. "And I don't feel real right about killing folks either. I would appreciate your help most kindly if you can help me figure out a way to do both."

"Lenore!" Kali hissed. "You cannot be serious about this?" she asked in an appalled tone.

"I am," Lenore replied.

Noises could be heard outside and Kali rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Fine. But we leave _now_."

_

* * *

_

August 27, 1745  
Calcutta, India

Lenore came back from hunting a tiger with Eli to find Kali waiting up for her. The goddess didn't even bother to greet Eli and instead directed her focus at Lenore. "We need to talk."

Apprehension trickled down her spine. "Alright," Lenore replied in a voice devoid of emotion. She had sensed this talk coming. Kali despised having Eli here and had not tried to hide that fact. "Eli, why don't you go upstairs and practice your meditation?"

Eli simply nodded and went to his temporary room. He was a man of few words but he wasn't addled – he just knew it was smart to avoid a confrontation with Kali.

Once he was gone Lenore sat down at the rocking chair and neatly folded her hands in her lap; an attempt to hide her nervousness. "Yes?"

Kali began pacing the length of the room. "You know that I resent that demon in my home, Lenore."

"I know Kali, but where else can he go? Until he can learn to control his urges he must stay with me," she explained for the hundredth time.

"You keep saying that but don't you understand how his presence fouls my house?" she asked in frustration. "I can feel the wickedness wafting off of him and it turns my stomach. I _slay_ demons Lenore, not have them as houseguests."

Lenore let out an angry sigh. "Kali, I was no different than Eli when I first showed up at Loki's. In fact, I was worst! I was a dark creature who fed off of her most beloved brother! But I had people – both you and Loki – who helped me on my journey to find the strength to satisfy my bloodlust with animals and to control myself around humans. That's all that Eli needs as well."

"You are different! You have a purpose. You were brought back for a reason. Eli, he is no more special than the stones beneath my feet!" The goddess towered in her anger and was truly a terrifying sight to behold. However, Lenore had witnessed Kali's temper more than enough in the last thirty-one years and she didn't scare so easily.

"And just what is my purpose, Kali? You claim not to know. Tell me – have you ever thought that maybe my purpose is to redeem my race?" Lenore spoke the words slowly because they were just now coming to her. It was as if a layer of the _Maya_, the veil, had been lifted for her and it was all making sense now.

Kali sputtered at what she clearly thought was a ludicrous idea. "Wha-what? You speak nonsense, Lenore. Vampires are not meant to be redeemed!"

"Why not? My race has souls. _Souls_, Kali! Perhaps I am meant to lead them away from temptation and help them find the strength to live a good life, as I was taught!"

"No, no, no," Kali shook her head. "That is insane. Are you telling me that you plan to take in stray vampires like some…some common nun or other such nonsense?"

"Yes," Lenore answered – and there was a tug in her gut that told her she spoke the truth. "I don't know what happens to vampires when we die. Heaven, Hell, I don't know. But I do know that I don't plan on letting Hell take any more souls. They already got my brother. I owe them some revenge; to bring more souls to the side of Heaven."

Kali knew that Lenore considered herself part of the Christian faith – it was why the goddess had been so afraid of Lenore dying and leaving her. And while it was most unusual to be lovers with a goddess of a different religion when Lenore still believed in God and his Son, she did. Lenore still believed after all of these years. Her beliefs had surely been tested to the brink of breakage but they remained.

Kali exhaled deeply and placed her face in her hands. "Oh Lenore," she said sadly. "I wish you hadn't said that."

"What is it?" she asked as she set her hand on Kali's shoulder. Her anger had dissipated at the distressing tone of Kali's voice and now all she felt was worry.

Kali looked up slowly with eyes that sparkled with pain. In a flash of movement she grabbed Lenore and pressed her up against the wall. Her hands were everywhere – pretty much literally – and Lenore moaned as Kali gave her a deep kiss that sent her lower regions throbbing. Lenore's hands fisted in Kali's hair as she pulled the goddess closer and circled one leg around her waist.

Reluctantly, after a moment that seemed to last forever, Kali pulled away panting. "That was a goodbye kiss," she stated in a tight voice.

"A…a what?" Lenore asked in a hesitant voice, sure that she had heard wrong.

"You're right, Lenore. You have found your path in life. I saw the truth of it explode in your eyes and felt it tighten in your chest. You have a noble goal."

Kali sighed. "You just cannot do it here."

"What?" Lenore gasped. Something cracked in her chest and tears lurked in the back of her eyes. "No, what do you mean? Why not?"

Evading her eyes, Kali answered. "I cannot abide demons in my home, Lenore. And if you are serious about helping others of your kind you will need to travel anyway."

Lenore grabbed Kali's hand in a tight vise. "Well, that doesn't mean…I mean, this is not the final goodbye, is it? Because your voice…i-it makes it sound like it is, b-but that's just silly, right?" she stammered nervously.

Tears fell from the abyss that lurked in Kali's black eyes. "You are ready to be on your own, my darling. You know combat, you know magic, but you do not yet fully know yourself. You need to be on your own now. I knew this day would arrive eventually…I just selfishly hoped I would have more time with you first."

"W-well you can!" Lenore argued with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm right here, Kali! I'm not dead. You can have me…you already have me!"

"Lenore, _please_," Kali said with a breaking sob. Lenore had never seen the goddess so emotional before and it made her heart break with a resounding crack of pain. "I don't want to let you go, but I must. I see it now. You must…you must do what you need to do. I cannot be a part of it – I could never so freely associate with common vampires."

"Kali," Lenore whispered. "This will just be temporary then, right? I can still visit you…"

Kali shook her head. "A clean break would be best, my love. Perhaps someday I will see you again…but it will not be for a long time."

Lenore's chest shook as she tried to contain the sobs that were building within her. Kali was her _life_. She couldn't just never see her again!

Her body shaking, Kali placed a gentle kiss on Lenore's forehead and stepped backwards. "I will leave for one week. Do whatever you need to in order to prepare for your trip. Use your funds from your Wolfram and Hart account. Most of all…be safe."

"Kali, no!" Lenore begged.

Her lover turned sad eyes downward and then teleported out of the house in the blink of an eye.

And all Lenore could do was sink to the floor and cry.

* * *

**A/N:**

Wow. I don't know what's wrong with me…I'm really making Lenore go through hell…but the wheel of life must continue to roll…

Also, I'm curious. Are any of you Dearest Readers out there shipping Lenore with anyone in your mind? Is there anyone featured in this story or within the SPN or BTVS universes that you would like to see her with, besides Willow? Maybe Kali again or…even Loki? Or someone new? Because Lenore still has over 200 years to date, ya know… ;) Just looking for feedback!

Review please!

_References_:  
* Fort William: .org/wiki/Fort_William,_India  
* The Seasons of Calcutta (now called Kolkata): .  
* .?title=Rakshasa  
*Eli is the vampire that is part of Lenore's gang in the Supernatural S2 episode 'Bloodlust'.


	17. The Televangelist of the Vampire World

_June 12, 1765  
Arles, France  
_

Lenore stood in one of the galleries of the Arles Amphitheatre, the exquisite smaller replica of the Roman Coliseum that was built here during Rome's rule over Gaul. Eli was at her right side and the dozen vampires of her clan milled freely in the arena area below. Alongside her clan were the fifteen new vampires who had come to hear her speak. Many of them were from the surrounding area and most made this small Southern France town home.

"I have walked this earth for ninety-three years," she began in an authoritative voice. Lenore hated – no, _despised_ – public speaking but after twenty years of it she was getting better. "For seventy-seven I have been a witch and for sixty-four I have been a vampire. And for sixty-two of those years I have been feeding off of only animal blood."

Several of the newcomer vampires smirked at one another – likely they were much older than her and were wondering why they should listen to one of her age. Others seemed disgusted that she would feed off something lower on the food chain. "My name is Lenore and I am here to share my enlightenment with you – that it _is_ possible to live in harmony with humans."

A bald vampire who appeared to have been turned in his early forties laughed outright at her. "Why should we even care about living 'in harmony'," he guffawed, "with humans? They are beneath us. Nothing better than cattle."

Several other vampires voiced their agreement and Lenore held her hand up for silence. "The world is changing. I have seen it in visions." Which was more or less true. "Human technology is advancing each year and their capabilities to detect and to _hunt_ us are growing.

"I am sure many of you have heard of the Hunters that kill our kind – the 'mere' humans – with swords and Dead Man's Blood. Some of these Hunters are infamous – Daniel Holtz, for example. We may think that these humans are beneath us but already Holtz has killed three-hundred of our kind. Tell me – have you ever seen a cow murder three-hundred humans?"

The crowd went silent and even the one outspoken vampire appeared contemplative at her words. Lenore's purpose in 'saving' vampires from their baser instincts was fueled by her spiritual beliefs. However, while many humans were religious in this century many vampires were not. To turn them to her side Lenore had to appeal to their common sense.

"No, you haven't. Humans are more advanced than cows and their technology is jumping by leaps and bounds. First we were hunted with swords and now guns and soon they will create even more tools of destruction. As the human world gets more civilized it will be even harder for our kind to hide. Therefore, our only option is to hide ourselves – by feeding off of only animals and not humans."

"But won't humans notice if all of their animals are dying?" one female vampire dressed in a petticoat asked in a dry voice.

"Not if we are nomadic and are careful about where we hunt. Furthermore, when we hunt wild animals – deer, moose, and others – we leave the bodily remains for the local predators, like the wolves. Therefore the humans don't become suspicious by dead animals devoid of blood," Lenore explained.

"But humans taste goddamn _good_!" shouted a bearded vampire with a wide smile. The crowd laughed and Lenore allowed herself a small smile. After all, she knew exactly what he was talking about, sadly enough.

"True, true. But our evolutionary process dictates that to survive we need to ignore humans – lest we finally be hunted down and meet the true death," she remarked gravely.

Knowing that her speech was over as several vampires began to look restless, Lenore performed a summoning spell and a pack of twenty lions appeared in the middle of the arena. Wolfram and Hart had procured the animals for her and hid them away in the underbelly of the arena so that her summoning spell would not be too strenuous. Of course, such a spell made her look most impressive since likely tonight's attendees would assume she transported the animals here all the way from Africa.

And when you were trying to convert new followers it was always smart for them to be impressed by you.

"Ask questions of my clan about our lifestyle choice. We are happy to accept any who wish to join us and provide them the support they need. Now, hunt and eat!"

As the lions roared in fear – all animals could sense the darkness of a demonic predator – her vampire guests roared back in anticipation and the hunt began.

Lenore sighed and leaned into Eli's shoulder. He had become her confidant over these last twenty years since they had left Kali and he was her right hand man in all clan issues. "So?"

Eli wrapped one comforting arm around her. "It was good."

She let out a snort of laughter. "And?"

"Out of the fifteen I saw at least six seem very interested. Out of those we should get three to join us and likely one will make it past the first year."

Lenore nodded. It was no easy task to convert other vampires to their ways and it was even harder to get them through the human blood detox program. "I was surprised to feel the presence of two half-breed vampires here," she commented. "Since those vampires are soulless it is very uncommon for them to willingly drink animal blood." Actually, unheard of completely at this point since Spike hadn't been born and fallen in love with Buffy yet.

"Really?" Eli mused. "Where?"

"Over there engaging in the almost carnal display of affection over the bloodied body of that male lion," Lenore gestured. The man had shoulder-length brown hair and wore a large overcoat while the blond woman was the same that had questioned her earlier, the woman in the petticoat. The man was on top of the woman and pushing her skirt up now…and Lenore looked away when she realized they were having sex.

"Strange."

"Indeed. Well, I suppose I should mingle. Keep watch over the area? My wards are resistant to human bypassers but one can never be too careful."

"Of course."

Lenore gave Eli a smile and leapt off of the gallery into the hard dirt of the arena. Ever since she had taken Eli under her wing he had been very supportive of her cause and adopted it as her own – it was nice to not be alone in all of this.

Even if he didn't come close to filling the hole that Kali left – or even Loki for that matter.

Twenty years and still no word from Kali. She had said she had wanted a clean break and she had gotten it. Loki was still just as silent – it had been fifty-one years since she had seen her old friend. She often found herself wondering what either of them were doing. Kali had said she had only loved two others besides Lenore – her consort Shiva from the Hindu pantheon and Loki. Was Kali with Shiva again? Or had she and Loki made amends? Perhaps Kali and Loki were together right now, laughing at how they had gotten the silly vampire to fall in love with them.

_'Fall in love with Kali,'_ is what she meant to think. Kali's absence in her life was now a dull ache after so many years but it still occasionally felt fresh and stung with pain.

At least Lenore was closer to seeing Willow again. Yes, she had fallen in love with another woman but her feelings for the two were very different. After all her experiences she still loved Willow and dreamt of her. Willow would be born in 1981, just 216 years from now. Of course, that was still a long time…but at least it wasn't three-hundred years anymore!

"So you are just going by Lenore now, not Prophetess any longer?" an amused female voice asked her.

Lenore whirled to her right and had to fight not to gasp. The woman speaking was the half-breed she had pointed out to Eli – and she realized it was Darla, the Master's child that had visited Aurelius' lair so many years ago. The man standing next to Darla gave her a smirk smeared with blood and Lenore realized she was looking at Angel – or rather, Angelus.

"I go by many names. Some even call me God," she responded coolly.

"God?" Darla asked in confusion as she licked away the last remnants of blood off the lion leg she was holding.

Her mind began twisting with thoughts. If Darla was here she could rat Lenore out to the Aurelius. But Lenore couldn't kill Darla or Angel because then she would interfere with the future as she knew it. But at least she knew that Darla and Angelus were rather sadistic bastards that would appreciate some good snark their way – and hopefully be too afraid to cross her afterwards.

"Yes, but it's rather informal. It usually goes something like this, "Oh my god, please don't rip off my pathetic demon head," Lenore replied snarkily.

Darla's laughter sounded like the tinkling of bells and Angelus chuckled darkly. "I thought you said this one was a mouse back in the day, luv. She sounds more lioness now," Angelus commented in a thick Irish brogue.

Darla lapped up one last mouthful of blood and dropped the leg unceremoniously. "I do enjoy the taste of lion," she smiled.

Lenore let her arms rest easily at her sides. She was certainly not afraid of these two. Angelus had to be no more than a decade old as a vampire and even though Darla was close to two-hundred years she was no match for Lenore's magic. "What brings two half-breeds such as yourself here? I know of your reputation – I doubt either of you are interested in a wildlife diet."

Angelus wrapped his arms around Darla's waist and leaned his head on top of hers. "Well now, we heard you were serving up lions tonight – we thought it would go rather well with the lambs we had for breakfast."

Bristling at the implication they ate human children earlier, Lenore gave them each a hard look. "We don't deal with soulless half-breeds, especially ones of _your_ reputation. I suggest you leave."

Angelus appeared before her in a show of speed that Lenore had to admit was quite good. "But the party is just getting started now, luv," he whispered as he trailed one calloused finger down her cheek.

Knowing she couldn't kill the bastard but that there was nothing against inflicting pain, Lenore grabbed his finger and crushed it in her bare hand. He gasped in pain as each tiny bone broke and Lenore shot Darla a threatening look so she wouldn't step any closer. "One thing you should remember, Angelus, is that my kind is much stronger than your pathetic half-breed body. I am a truer demon than the one that exists where your soul once dwelled and thus I have enough power to kill both you and Darla before you have a moment to beg for forgiveness."

Angelus gritted his teeth and snarled at her.

"Now leave here and never come near my clan again," Lenore ordered as she released Angelus and kicked him backwards. Vampires of their reputation only understood one thing – pain.

Both of them bared their fangs and 'game faces' of crinkled forehead flesh, but they left quickly. Lenore only hoped that she didn't have to worry about them showing up for revenge at a later point.

_June 14, 1765  
Arles, France  
_

They were living for the time being in the Camargue Forest outside the town of Arles on the banks of the Rhone River. Since Lenore's speech two nights ago four vampires had joined their clan and tonight was a celebration to welcome them into the fold. For the special occasion Lenore obliged her new family by purchasing several unique reptilian animals from another dimension through Wolfram and Hart. The cost had been severe but she was a woman of means thanks to her insightful investments (the cuckoo clock was a hit in Europe!) and it pleased her to make others happy. The road that her clan travelled was a difficult one and celebrations were necessary to keep up morale.

Besides, the _'Mortemzilinas'_ had delicious spicy blood, were six feet tall, full of fangs and claws, and overall a very fun hunt for everyone.

"Oh my god!" their newest member, Anne, sighed as she swallowed her first mouthful. "My lady, this is maybe even better than human blood!"

Lenore smiled at her enthusiasm and wiped her chin of her meal. "I am glad you think so. This breed is excellent – although I am afraid it is only for special occasions. I hope you will find the strength to be satisfied with our more typical fare of deer and cows."

Anne laughed happily as she drank further. "If it means I get this every once in a while, I think I'll be good!"

The tightness in her chest that always arrived upon the acceptance of new members eased slightly. Anne had the enthusiasm for life that often foretold an ability to abstain from humans and stay committed to their lifestyle. Lenore was pleased by this.

Several hours later when the moon was high in the sky they began packing. Her clan never stayed in one area for too long and tonight they would head deeper into the Camargue Forest. It was imperative that their newest members be severed from human contact for the first thirty days if they were to make it in this lifestyle.

Of course, Lenore was tempted after those thirty days to head north , past the Cévennes Forest, to the French province of Gévaudan. Rumors stated that ferocious wild wolves were attacking a number of humans. In the past two years seventy-five people were attacked and the majority of them killed – by being eaten. Needless to say, Lenore was curious if the attacks were the work of werewolves and if so, she wanted to see if she could help.

Oh, alright. Maybe after all these years and one lifetime she still felt guilty about poor Oz finding out that Tara was 'with' Willow like that. She kind of felt like she owed the werewolf population something.

"Lenore, I cannot find Anne," Eli whispered to her, breaking her internal musings, as Lenore cleared away their campsite.

"What do you mean?" she asked sharply.

"She is gone," he shrugged. "I'm afraid she may have deserted us even sooner than normal."

"No," Lenore said quietly as she shook her head. "There was something special about Anne – I was predicting good things from her."

Eli was quiet for a moment. "You have been wrong before."

Lenore winced. Their twenty years of converting vampires to animal blood had certainly not been without its share of mistakes. "Perhaps," she admitted. "Or," she added as she remembered something. "Perhaps Darla and Angelus have decided to wreak havoc. It would be like them."

Eli sighed. "Should I warn the others to watch out for the half-breeds?"

"Yes. Also—" But Lenore's words died in her throat as an arrow embedded in her heart. She looked down at her white peasant blouse and experienced a sense of déjà vu as blood blossomed over her shirt.

"Lenore!" Eli yelled in fear as he caught her falling form. Arrows began to rain down from the skies and her clan members began screaming.

"Hunters," Lenore gasped as she ripped the arrow all the way through her chest – the sooner she did that the sooner it would heal, but _damn_ did that hurt! "Lead them Eli. Deep into the woods. I'll use magic. They must think us half-breeds if they're shooting arrows," she laughed weakly.

"But—"

"Go!"

Eli gave her a resentful look, clearly despising his orders to leave her behind, but he did as she requested. Already her wound was healing and Lenore performed a spell that she had actually learned from Willow – she thickened the air so that the arrows slowed as if they were caught in honey. Angry male voices sounded behind her and she heard the hooves of horses in a mighty gallop headed in her direction.

Her vision became spotted – she had never been stabbed in the heart before! – and fiery pain spilled through her chest. Lenore coughed up blood as she gathered her strength for another spell. She did not at _all_ want to kill the hunters – even though she stayed away from them Lenore tracked her family tree and knew that Alexander and Elizabeth's lines consisted of Hunters. God forbid she accidentally kill her own descendent! No, she had to use defensive magic.

Pressing her palms to the earth Lenore concentrated as hard as possible and created a ten foot deep moat around her location in a thirty foot radius. She heard the whinnying of horses and knew that the Hunters must have arrived.

"Dammit! She's a witch. And a pure vampire!" snarled an angry man.

"But Mr. Holtz, how do we kill her?" asked another.

"Dead Man's Blood," the first man, Holtz, whispered.

Lenore felt her heart hammer in her chest. She was weak, terribly weak and wasn't sure if she could handle anymore magic for at least the next ten minutes until her reserves were filled back up from her first two spells.

She raised her head to look at her attackers and saw a grim faced man raise a bow with a notched arrow dripping with blood. Lenore jerked to the side but the tip still dug into her right arm. She jerked up to run away and her heart burned as she coughed up more blood. Another arrow hit her and another…

And then there was nothing.

_June 14, 1765  
Arles, France  
_

Lenore awoke bleary eyed and bound to a wooden beam. She felt burning hot and as she glanced around she saw that she was in a barn surrounded by flames. The two vampires from the other night, Darla and Angelus, were arguing as Darla climbed on top of a horse and galloped out of the barn and to safety. Angelus was cursing her as a flaming beam fell on top of him and he quickly shoved it off and then rolled around until the flames had gone.

With a groan Lenore tried to yank off the chain link metal that kept her tied to the beam but realized that her strength was still tapped from the Dead Man's Blood in her system. Dammit. Her body and mind were weakened by this poison and since she had never been attacked with it before, Lenore had no idea how long it would affect her.

"Help me!" she called out weakly to Angelus. After all, he was obviously going to live through this experience so she may as well tag along.

Angelus glanced at her and scoffed. "Sorry lass, but I need to figure a way out of here myself!" he shouted in annoyance as a burning beam fell and blocked the door.

Lenore felt herself start to sweat and decided she couldn't wait until the day Angelus was stupid enough to feed off of that gypsy girl. "Break my chains and I can help!" Well, she would try. Concentration was an important ingredient in witchcraft and currently this Dead Man's Blood had her brain feeling like she had just downed a bottle of liquor in a single shot.

Fierce staccato barks and growls could be heard through eastern wall and Lenore looked towards the flame-coated area in surprise. Suddenly the wall exploded inwards as a massive wolf bounded inside the barn. He was black as coal and his eyes glowed with intelligence. If that wasn't strange enough, then his size was even more breathtaking. Lenore's mind was a bit screwy at the moment but she estimated that the animal stood at least four feet tall and sinewy muscled was stretched under his thin fur.

He looked at her and leapt over quickly, easily avoiding a section of the floor were burning hay threatened to singe him. The wolf's teeth came to snap above her head and for a split second fear squeezed her chest as Lenore thought she was going to die. Instead, the wolf snapped her chains with his teeth and then he carefully picked her up with his mouth. She felt a pressure against her torso but he was not, oddly, hurting her.

"Hey! I want out of here too!" Angelus shouted angrily as he ducked close to the floor to avoid falling debris.

The wolf snarled and Lenore weakly touched its snout. "Please help him," she whispered. She wasn't sure which way was which anymore but she did know that Angel couldn't die. And if she was supposed to help make sure he didn't…well, she'd do what she could.

The wolf made a noise of annoyance and reluctantly lowered to the floor so Angelus could climb on top of him. Then with his sheer strength and determination the wolf fled the burning barn and took them along for the ride.

At some point during their journey Lenore passed out from the poison in her system and when she awoke she was deep in the Camargue Forest, just outside the campsite of her clan. The wolf was gone, as was Angelus, and Lenore was baffled by the night's events.

Just what sort of creature had saved her? And why?

**

* * *

**

A/N:

Thanks to AllenPitt for suggesting that Lenore meet up with the Scourge of Europe and Holtz! He even suggested the barn scene as well.

And I hope you guys enjoy the random bits of history! Heehee, I am kind of a history geek that way… :)

_References_  
* Arles Amphitheatre: .org/wiki/Arles_Amphitheatre  
* Had to look up exactly how far firearms had progressed by 1765 for Lenore's speech and that info was found here: .org/wiki/History_of_Firearms  
*The woods where they stayed: .org/wiki/Camargue  
* Those wolf attacks were true and in 1765 one of the wolves was killed. The attacks lasted from 1764-1767 and are a popular story for cryptozoologists (people who study supernatural animals like Nessie). Needless to say I just *had* to make use of the story! (.org/wiki/Beast_of_G%C3%A9vaudan)  
*In 'Angel' Season 3 Daniel Holtz is the 'Big Bad' of the season and there are a bunch of flashbacks featuring him and Angel. I cannot remember the episode but in 1765 Hotlz does trap them in a barn and Darla leaves Angel, yet we are never shown how Angel escaped. Someone told me that another vampire had been trapped in that barn so I inserted Lenroe! (.com/wiki/Daniel_Holtz)


	18. Bark at the Moon

_October 11, 1769  
Zografou, Greece  
_

Lenore awoke gasping great mouthfuls of air as she jerked up in her simple bed of hay. She glanced around the abandoned barn her clan of twenty-three vampires had found a week ago and was relieved to see that everyone else was sleeping – she didn't want anyone to see her in this state.

Lurching upwards Lenore groggily left the barn and walked into the brightness of the sun. It did not burn her but it did sap her strength, however she didn't care about that at this point. Lenore needed to feel the warmth of the sun on her face; to feel something other than the coolness of the lonely dark nights.

When she first dreamt of her nephew Gavin's death earlier this century she had thought it had been a fluke. But over the years she had dreamt of the deaths of others – her older brothers Edgar and Ennis, Michael the son of Elizabeth, Jesse the son of Alexander, and several other grandchildren that had died from either natural causes or accidents. Several of Alexander and Dawn's children had died during Hunting trips. Each of these dreams stung her spirit and she hated the curse of seeing each member of her bloodline die.

Even if sometimes she thought it was a blessing as well – to know what happened with her family.

But today…today's dream had brought giant rolling tears down her cheeks and she shivered in the warmth of the warmth of the sun.

Alexander O'Neil had been of seventy-four years of age and sleeping when death took him last night. He was in bed alone; his wife Jessica had passed away ten years ago. He slept in the master bedroom of Summerford Manor which was also home to his eldest son Duncan O'Neil who lived with his wife and youngest daughter Elspeth. She had moved there after her husband was killed during a Hunt and had brought her teenage daughters Mara and Brigid with her; overall they were a happy family.

This strange snapshot into the life of her son made her happy in a strange way –happy that he had lived such a long and productive life – yet it still grieved her to know that she could not be there for him in the end. He was the first of her three children to die and the surprise of seeing his life end was painful.

Maybe one day she could see her family in person. One day when she had saved enough vampires from killing humans and felt less like the cursed creature she was. Until then she could only console herself by sending money for the funeral arrangements through her Wolfram and Hart account.

_  
January 5, 1821  
Stockholm, Sweden  
_

Vampires flourished in the north. Although it was cold and their kind preferred warmer climates, the long dark days of areas close to the Arctic Circle provided a great deal of incentive to live here. Stockholm had a large vampire community and Lenore had just finished up her final diplomatic mission of visiting the various vampire groups. Each meeting consisted of her explaining her clan's lifestyle and persuading the other group to join, but that was easier said than done. Many of the vampires here in Sweden were several hundreds – two of them even a thousand – years old. No matter how much practice she had experienced in the last seventy-six years, not even she could persuade these guys.

Actually, Lenore was just glad that the older vampires hadn't done something bad to her. It puzzled her that Aurelius hadn't attacked her yet or sent word to his minions to capture and/or kill her. Clearly he must know that the vampire seer converting others to animal blood had to be her. The only reasoning behind his lack of action were the several rumors she had heard about him. Aurelius, it seemed, had gone underground. A few believed him dead but most just thought that he was hibernating – ancient vampires were known to do that from time to time. As they passed the thousand year mark many of them would get weary living and slumber until they found the world interesting again.

At any rate, she heard that The Master was the new leader of a cult devoted to Aurelius and his teachings – including her prophecies.

Lenore snorted with laughter. She couldn't wait to see the Master use her prophecies only to end up getting staked by the slayer he killed.

"You have two letters, Lenore," a soft voice informed her as she stepped into her hotel room.

Lenore smiled at the younger vampire and gave her a quick kiss. "Thank you, Maria."

Maria was a vampire of fifty years that Lenore had found just days after her transformation in 1771. Maria had attached herself to Lenore and she had personally taught the former southern Spanish gypsy woman everything she needed to know in her new life. Almost immediately Lenore had suspected that Maria loved her on a deeper level than Lenore felt for the new vampire, but she had only thought of her as a pupil and then a friend. Then ten years ago something had changed. An attacking vampire clan had practically left Maria for dead during a battle – sadly Lenore had made quite a few enemies over the years – and it was then that she realized how much she cared for Maria.

Since that moment their relationship was taken to a new level. The love Lenore felt for Maria was not close to what she still felt for Willow or Kali but Lenore did love her…and she was tired of being lonely.

Lenore skimmed the first letter. It was from Eli, sent over from eastern Russia, where he had taken fifteen of their clan members. While some of their members had left their overall clan and others were killed in attacks by hunters, demons, or other vampires, their numbers had grown greatly. So much so that they had to branch off into sub-groups – after all, if eighty-five vampires were roaming together in one group then surely someone would notice! Lenore led one group, Eli led another, and there were five other group leaders, all of whom were dedicated to their lifestyle.

Of course, Lenore missed Eli a great deal. They still kept in touch and several times a year the entire clan would congregate but it just wasn't the same.

At least she had Maria.

Tossing Eli's letter onto the dresser, she began reading the second one. This one was from her Wolfram and Hart representative, Parvati Patil (a descendent of Padma's) and was an update on her investments. The nineteenth century was thus far a tumultuous one as numerous colonies sought liberation – Greece from the Ottoman Empire and nearly all of Spain's colonies in Latin America (Mexico, Dominican Republic, Peru, Guatemala, El Salvador, Venezuela, and more). However, since Lenore knew ahead of time that each of those countries would be winning their independence sometime soon she was putting forth the proper investments. According to her letter the revolutions were going well and her investment should prove worthy soon.

It was times like now that Lenore loved her past/future life and all the memories that came with it.

"Any news?" Maria asked as she settled comfortably onto the couch. Her lithe dancer's body was clothed only in her peach-colored corset that lit up her dark skin beautifully and a matching set of panties. Lenore allowed herself a long moment to take in every detail of her lover before answering her question.

"Eli sends his regards. His group is doing well and took in one new member, although Patrick was maimed during an unsuccessful polar bear attack. And Parvati just messaged me on money issues."

Lenore let the letter drop carelessly to the floor as she began undoing the buttons of her dress. "I've given each of the Stockholm groups a week to decide if they want to learn anything from us. Two leaders seemed interested but the others just laughed in my face."

"Hmm. A whole week? What shall we ever do until then?" Maria asked with a flirting smile as she sat up slowly and pressed her arms to her sides, thus emphasizing her large breasts.

"We'll have to get creative, my dear," Lenore smiled in anticipation before she lost herself in Maria's love.

_  
January 13, 1821  
Stockholm, Sweden  
_

"Well the trip here has been a bust," Alice remarked sadly as Lenore led a caravan of seven of her clan members through the early morning hours. Alice had been with Lenore since 1819 and was the more surly member of the group, likely because she had been turned at the age of fifteen. However, she was a good girl overall when she wasn't complaining about something. "We visited at least forty vampires and _none_ of them joined!"

Lenore wrapped her arms around the younger vampire and squeezed gently. "The vampires that roam the north are notorious for being quite a bit more bloodthirsty than most. Their replies are not surprising but it is good that we came to sow the seeds of our mission. Over time those seeds may grow and we may see them again."

"I suppose so," Alice grumbled. "So where to next? Oslo?"

_Oslo_. The capital of the country of Norway – a country that Lenore had not seen in 117 years.

"There are two groups of vampires known to be living there, so yes," Maria replied. She gave Lenore a cautious look and immediately Lenore wiped her expression clean of sadness. The only friend of hers that knew about Loki was Eli – for some reason she had been unable to bring herself to tell Maria or any other others. She didn't know why exactly…perhaps just thinking about him made her sad.

"I heard that they have huge wolves there!" Alice chatted happily, her mood switching quickly as always. "Mmm, I can't wait to try them!"

"No," Lenore responded quickly. The others looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. "I've…been to Norway before. The wolves were my allies. Please do not harm them."

Mostly everyone nodded in agreement; Lenore didn't request many personal favors of them after all. But Alice was an eager little thing and loved to pester her with questions.

"Is that why you never eat wolves? Why were you friends with the wolves? Is that why that huge wolf saved you a long time ago? Is he one of your friends?"

Lenore let out an exasperated sigh and shushed the teenager with a wave of her hand. "Yes, that is why I never eat wolves. Yes, we were friends. No, as the legend goes I have no idea who that giant wolf was, so no, he was not my friend either."

"Well—"

"Alice, _please_," Lenore spoke as she struggled to refrain from allowing her irritation at the girl enter her voice.

Alice became quiet and so did everyone else. That made Lenore feel a little bit guilty but she was already incredibly nervous about heading towards Loki's homeland. What if he was there? What if he saw her? Did he still hate her?

The last thought made her want to cry. All these years later and she still thought of him as her best friend.

She missed him.

_  
February 13, 1821  
Oslo, Norway  
_

Since Stockholm she had taken to spending most nights by herself. Maria was confused and a little bit hurt but Lenore just needed some alone time. Being this close to Loki's home was grating on her nerves. A part of her yearned to see him while another part wanted to run away, in both fear that he hated her and the guilt she felt at sleeping with the love of his immortal life.

It was perhaps four in the morning when she heard a ghostly wolf howl echo through the cobbled streets of the neighborhood she was meandering through. Lenore stiffened and her senses went on red alert. Loki had taught her the language of wolves long ago and that howl seemed to beckon, "_Come here, Lenore._"

Lenore debated the situation but figured that she was powerful enough, both physically and magically, to take care of most things that went bump in the night. She began running quickly through the darkened streets towards the wolf's call. It howled again, farther this time, and she left the city limits and headed for the fields outside of it. The snow was thick, at least three feet, but she was running so quickly that she never sunk into it.

A final howl sounded even closer. She looked in the direction of the sound and saw a high, rolling hill covered with snow. The full moon lit the hill up perfectly from its position behind the crest of the hill and for a moment Lenore was afraid that there may be a werewolf waiting for her. However, the howl sounded more animal in nature…

She ran up the hill and was surprised to see the giant wolf that had saved her back in 1765 appear. He looked majestic and proud and the bright moon made his black fur shine brilliantly. Lenore swallowed heavily as he set his keen eyes upon her and she shivered as she felt the power roll off the wolf. This was no mere wolf but it was not a werewolf either.

She had no idea what it was.

But it wasn't killing her now and it had saved her before, so she was trying to think positive thoughts.

"H-hello," she stammered nervously. Its power seemed to curl around her, testing her. It was ancient and the taste of it weighed heavily on her tongue as she breathed in deeply.

The wolf sat and regarded her for a moment. He barked '_Look at me_' and she did. Lenore stared into eyes the color of the bark of a redwood tree and just as old. Once eye contact had been established she could hear him speak in her mind, which was _nothing_ like she had ever experienced with another wolf.

_'You are Lenore McLeod?'_

"Yes," she spoke out loud, because answering in her head felt silly – even if her life couldn't get sillier at this point.

_'I saved you from certain death fifty-six years ago at the request of my father. Now I need you to perform a similar task for him, for he is imprisoned where I am not permitted to tread.'_

Lenore's heart started to pound as bits of information began to string together in her head. Her mind knew the answer to her next question, yet she had to ask it regardless. "Who is your father?"

He gave her a stern look, as if he knew about her betrayal and did not approve of his need to ask for her help. _'Loki.'_

**A/N:**  
So I signed up for the Gabriel Big Bang on LiveJournal (as in Gabriel from Supernatural) and I kinda just realized I officially have only a month and 2 days left to figure out a 20k story and then write it. Eeep! But I wanna finish this story first, hence the many fun updates you Most Awesome Readers are receiving ;D

*crosses fingers and hopes she can finish everything*

_References_  
*Bark at the Moon – Ozzy Osbourne album and song! (.org/wiki/Bark_at_the_moon)  
*The Greek city near Athens that I placed Lenore in: .org/wiki/Zogr%C3%A1fou,_Greece  
* When I write I just decide what year Lenore will be in and then look it up on Wikipedia *I was pleasantly surprised to see that 1821 was a very exciting year! Lots 'o' fun revolutions and such! (.org/wiki/1821)


	19. Bubble Baths & Hot Chocolate

_February 14, 1821  
Reine, Norway  
_

The wolf that she knew to be named Fenrir (although he did not give his name but she remembered reading about Loki's children many years ago) allowed her to ride upon his back. His feet barely touched the ground as Fenrir's mystical body endured the thousand miles at full speed until they reached their destination the next morning. As they came upon the epically beautiful landscape Lenore felt a strange blend of bittersweet happiness while she took in the sparkling bay, towering mountains, dark greens of the forest.

Fenrir was silent as his feet padded softly towards the foot of the mountain. They were not near the door to Loki's home but they were close. "Where is Loki?" she questioned as the wolf laid down so she could climb off.

_'Up there,'_ he spoke in her mind as their eyes met. _'Demons have captured him at the top of the mountain.'_

"Okay. Well what do I need to do? Who is it and why are you prevented from helping?"

Fenrir growled. _'Dark demons with mystical powers. Not the kind of this world, the black-eyed ones, but ones from another dimension. Spells prevent all of those with god-blood from climbing the mountain.'_

"Why just god blood?"

Lenore got the impression that Fenrir thought she was an idiot, if his mental tone meant anything. _'Who else would help a pagan god in trouble? That is why I needed you. No go – and hurry.'_

She hated to admit it, but the giant wolf scared her. Nodding, she cracked her fingers and took in the impressive mountain. It was small compared to others but still 8,000 feet high – not an easy climb.

But Loki was counting on her. Failure was not an option.

Lenore attacked the mountain with a ferocity previously unknown to her as she climbed, jumped, and ran wherever needed. The air became thinner as she ascended but since she didn't need to breathe it did not bother her. However, the presence of powerful and dark magic brushed against her skin with the density of a whale. It made her catch her breath for a moment, about 5,000 feet up, as she pondered what the hell was going to be waiting for her, these creatures that could subdue a powerful pagan god.

But she continued onwards. Loki was counting on her.

Many hours later with her body coated with the falling snow, her lips as blue as a clear sky, and her limbs exhausted, Lenore arrived only dozens of feet from the summit. The snow was thick and much of the mountain wall was slick with ice this time of year. The only thing she had going for her was that the thick clouds this high up covered her body from the draining effects of the sun.

Lenore took a moment to catch her breath and perform a warming spell on herself – cold limbs were not useful in a fight – and then climbed to the top of the summit. The area had a circumference of maybe forty feet and was covered with jagged rocks. There were no demons in the vicinity but Loki was here…and what she saw rocked her mind.

Loki was standing with his back turned towards her and his hands curled into fists. He wore his a cape made of black bear fur and it billowed in the high mountain winds. But what shocked her was the ring of fire that he stood in.

Holy Fire.

That knowledge knocked her over the head as she took an experimental sniff and realized she smelled Holy Oil, like the kind Kali had purchased. Suddenly all the puzzle pieces that Loki had so carefully disclosed from her began connecting.

During her imprisonment by Connor she had seen a pure white aura radiating from Loki. When she met Castiel she saw something similar and had been confused when he stated that pagan gods do not posses pure auras. And Loki's power – it was far greater than he let on and a heck of a lot older, too. The sadness in his eyes, the amount of discomfort he exuded when his 'family' was brought up…

Dear God…Loki was an angel!

Lenore tried to contain her flabbergasted reaction and returned to the present problem of Loki being trapped by demons – demons who must know his true form. She hauled herself to her feet and Loki whirled to stare at the latest intruder. Upon seeing Lenore his face lit with disbelief and all they did was stare at each other, neither of them knowing what to say after going 107 years without contact.

"How?" Loki finally asked, his amber eyes flaring with something that she wanted to believe was hope, although feared was anger.

"Your son, the wolf, came for me," she spoke stoically. Even though the temperature was below freezing she began to feel feverish.

"Fenrir." Loki said the name of his son like it was a curse word as he looked down at his booted feet. Then he glanced up at her. "Hurry. Put out this fire. The Rey'tal will be back soon and trust me kid, you do not want to face them alone."

"O-okay," Lenore said shakily, not quite understanding why she suddenly felt nervous. She began walking over to Loki when suddenly her body plunged through the rock of the mountain like it was quicksand, with only her head peeking out as the rock hardened once more.

"What?" she gasped as she struggled to free herself.

"Vampire," came a mocking laugh. Lenore looked up to see three humanoid creatures wearing crimson leather from head to toe. A black emblem of a snake woven around a crown was sewn over their left breast. Their skin was blacker than the darkest depths of the ocean and their eyes were red slits akin to a serpent. Two of them were bald but the one had a single three-inch strip of black hair that was woven in a tight braid. Curved swords hung on their backs and their height of eight feet and muscular build declared without words that they were formidable fighters.

"Is this who you send for help?" the same creature – the leader of these 'Rey'tal' she assumed – continued to speak. "A mere vampire?" The three of them laughed with great humor.

"No," Loki spat. "Never seen the girl before in my life. Probably just some mountaineer, you know," he lied easily.

Within a second one of the bald demons had a sword to her throat. "Indeed?" the braided demon asked in amusement. "Then you will not mind if we kill her."

Loki made a motion to step out of his ring of fire, but he stopped himself in time. Which was good, because Kali had said that any angel that steps out of Holy Fire will have his body destroyed. "Stop!" he snarled, but not before her neck was nicked with the sharp sword. "Leave her alone. You already have me. That is enough."

"Perhaps," the leader mused. "But I can feel a good deal of power from her. She can control magic…she may be a good specimen to bring back to my father."

Lenore's lip curled up as she bared a multitude of sharp fangs. "I am not going anywhere with you. Leave us!"

The leader chuckled softly as he knelt down and yanked her chin upwards. His fingers traced the outside of her fangs, as if he were studying her, and his strength was so great that she couldn't bite down on him. "I have been travelling with my two knights for a long time now, vampire. We bring back all manner of exotic creatures to my father's kingdom. Your friend here was a unique specimen back when we thought him only a pagan god. Once my spell correctly identified him, he became quite the prize."

He stood up and smile. "And a vampire who is a witch will be an excellent addition as well."

Lenore snarled at him and used her fury to telekinetically yank the leader through the air and over the Holy Fire. Loki used his body as a bridge to pass over the fire and snapped her out of her rocky prison. The two of them glanced at each other and smiled as the three Rey'tal got into battle formation.

"Let's kick some ass," Loki cheerfully declared with raging eyes.

The next ten minutes were a whirlwind of activity. All of the Rey'tal were powerful fighters and magic users but they were nothing compared to Loki. Lenore's assistance was not even needed when there as a furious pagan god/maybe angel on their side – although she did try to help a little.

Moments later, with their bodies turning to ash in a funeral pyre that Loki created, Lenore turned to her old friend nervously. Covered in black blood, her own blood, snow, and ice, she was feeling incredibly self-conscious. Her old 'Tara' traits were coming back to her as she rubbed her hands uneasily and avoided making eye contact with Loki.

"So," she said, not really sure what to say.

"So," Loki drawled. She could feel the heat of his gaze assessing her but she was feeling a combination of terror and guilt that prevented her from looking him in the eyes. What if he still hated her for stealing Kali? If she ever saw that same look of anger that he gave her on the day he kicked her out years ago, Lenore didn't know what she'd do.

"Wanna come to my place for some hot chocolate?" he asked her in a light tone that sounded slightly hesitant.

Surprised, she looked up and smiled at him. "Sure," she simply replied.

Loki snapped his fingers and suddenly they were at the foot of the mountain outside his home. Fenrir was waiting in front of the threshold with a relieved expression. He let out a happy bark and jumped on top of Loki before licking the pagan's face with his large, lolling tongue.

"Jeez, get off me ya mutt," Loki grumbled but his eyes were lit with mirth. "I don' wanna get rabies from you."

Fenrir playfully growled but did as his father requested. The wolf glanced at Lenore and he nodded, as if to acknowledge the role she played in helping his father.

Which…Lenore was still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that Norse mythology was completely true and Loki - _her_ Loki – had a wolf as a son.

"We're going to go warm up, Fenrir. You staying around or heading out?" Loki asked his son.

Fenrir barked several times.

"Alright. Well…thanks kiddo. You did good," Loki smiled sheepishly at the wolf.

Fenrir let out a deep playful bark before eight-hundred pounds of wolf bounded into the forest.

Loki opened the door and Lenore realized that his home had not changed much in the last hundred years. A couple of the Bernini statues were gone but they were replaced with some new art pieces. "So, uh, if you want to get cleaned up your old room and bathroom are still back there," he informed without looking at her.

"Yeah, okay," she said as she glanced down at her dirty clothes and body – she really did need a bath.

Loki didn't reply but just went to his own room. Probably, she figured, to shower as well. She was sure that it didn't have anything to do with him hating her…

With a sigh Lenore retreated into the familiar hall and into her old room. Nothing had changed since she left. The bed was in the exact same state of disarray and the entire room was coated in a thick layer of dust that tickled her nostrils. Frowning, she wondered if she had made Loki so angry that he couldn't even bear to enter her old room. If so, she didn't expect today to go easily.

She did a simple spell that cleaned the surfaces of the room and retrieved a dusty towel from the dresser (that she also needed a cleaning spell for). Then Lenore entered her former bathroom and ran the water. There was a showerhead in the bathtub so she chose to wash off all of the dirt, blood, and snow before allowing the bathwater to run so she could relax. Lenore knew that she should hurry up and dress but she wanted to prolong their reunion until she got her nerves under control.

Besides, there was a bottle of bubble bath solution and who could resist a bubble bath after a fight to the death?

A few sharp raps against the door brought her out of her reverie a while later. "Lenore? You alright?"

"Y-yeah?" she asked in a startled voice. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'm good. Just real tired. I think I might have dozed off."

"Okay, well I have some clean clothes for you if you want them."

"Sure, bring them in."

Lenore was used to living in close quarters with at least twenty other people at this point so while she was certainly not an exhibitionist she was used to more than one person using the bathroom at once. However, she cursed her force of habit as Loki opened the door because she certainly hadn't meant to invite him to come in!

Quickly she pushed all of the thick bubbles to cover the important parts of her body.

Loki glanced at her in the bathtub and a ghost of his old flirtatious smile appeared because he abruptly locked it away. He tossed a bundle of clothing onto the chair beside her. "These are yours. You left them back when…well, you know." He didn't look at her as he told her this and his voice sounded distraught to her finely tuned ears.

"Oh," she nodded. "Thank you for, um, saving them."

Loki just nodded and walked out the room.

Feeling ashamed Lenore quickly dried off and dressed. This was clearly a bad, bad idea. She should have just left as soon as Loki was safe. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her bare feet padded softly down the hallway as she made her way to the den. Next to the roaring fireplace Loki waited for her on the loveseat. On the table in front of him were two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of pastries. Wordlessly she slid into the couch on the opposite side of him and curled her legs under her. Loki reached for a mug and gestured for her to do the same.

"Here's to kicking demon ass," he smirked as he held his mug up, but his eyes didn't sparkle with the warmth that they usually did.

"Here, here," Lenore gave him a small smile as she clinked his glass and took a sip. Vampires needed blood but it was possible for them to ingest things other than that. However, most didn't prefer to do so. Lenore made an exception to hot chocolate – something that Loki had introduced her to within the first year of her living with him.

God that felt so long ago.

Lenore uneasily sipped her drink and wondered what to say. It appeared that Loki felt the same; his eyes were focused on the table between them and the atmosphere was fraught with tension.

"How are you feeling?"

Loki's head jerked up in surprise and he forced a smile that she knew to be false – even after all these years she was still able to discern some things about him. "I've been better."

There was a moment of awkward silence as she internally debated what to say next, just _anything_ to fill up the space between them, when Loki spoke again. "And you? This isn't really tourist season for mountain climbing, after all."

Lenore shrugged. "Still warming up, but I'm okay." Since her body was cool by nature it took a long time to warm up from hours in the blistering cold. She could survive in the cold, sure, but it wasn't a comfortable feeling.

Loki snapped his fingers and a furred blanket covered her lap and legs. "Thanks," she said with a small smile.

He just nodded and looked into the fire.

Lenore really wanted to ask him about the whole Angel-Holy Fire business but was afraid to bring up a sensitive subject. Clearly if Loki never told her then he didn't want her to know. Besides, she was still finding it difficult to discern if he still hated her or not.

Time passed in silence as they each finished their mug of hot chocolate. Lenore was worried that maybe Loki was going to kick her out when she was done but he filled up her mug with more hot chocolate and did the same for himself.

Finally Loki turned to her and spoke. "Thank you. I never would have expected that you of all people would come for me." His amber eyes sparkled with sincerity and it took her a moment to fight the impulse to hug him.

The long years had fooled her into thinking she didn't miss Loki as much as she truly did.

"Of course!" Lenore said with an incredulous look. "Once Fenrir told me you were trapped by demons I had to help."

Loki just looked sheepish. "After how we ended things I wouldn't have blamed you from looking the other way."

"Loki." Lenore bit her lip; she wasn't sure what to say. "No matter what happened with our friendship I couldn't allow anything bad to happen to you. Besides," she smiled, "your son indicated that it was owed from the time he rescued me." Yes, Lenore had been very intrigued by Fenrir's comments on that topic.

"Wha-what?" Loki sputtered, and as always a part of her was amused at her ability to surprise him.

Lenore just raised an eyebrow in response. "He said he did it at the request of his father. Did you order him to save me?" There was a part of Lenore that hoped he would say yes because that would mean that he _didn't_ hate her!

"What? No – that's crazy talk." Loki's eyes rolled in exasperation at her look of disbelief. "Hey, are you going to believe me or some overgrown talking dog?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

Lenore just laughed at the absurdity of his comment and of their overall situation. Anyone else would say 'no' but her life really was this insane. Loki started laughing too and their laughter intermingled as the tension evaporated from the air.

Loki shook his head with a smile and shouted in the direction of the door. "Next time I see you mister, you're grounded!"

Lenore's keen ears could hear an answering howl sounding from far away.

"Smartass," Loki muttered.

"Well, thank you," Lenore smiled. "I don't think I would have survived that."

"Yeah, guess we're even now," Loki responded with a careless shrug.

She decided to bite the bullet and address the pink elephant in the room. "No. We're not." He looked at her in alarm and she forced herself to plow forward. "I feel so guilty about what happened…with Kali. Taking her from you. If I had known beforehand that she was the woman you really loved I _never_ would have taken up with her, you have to believe me!"

His eyes squeezed shut painfully. "Yeah. I, uh…yeah." Loki cleared his throat. "That wasn't easy to witness, you leaving with her."

Lenore fought herself to look directly at him and confront the emotion there. His eyes were like saddened honey pots and his jaw was tightly clenched. She bit her lower lip nervously. "Can you ever forgive me?"

A beat passed, and then another. Her throat constricted and she ordered herself not to cry as the moment elapsed.

"Of course I forgive you. Hating you would be harder than going without chocolate for a day," Loki finally said, and her heart warmed at the twinkle in his eye.

A relieved smile blossomed over her face. "Thanks, Loki." Then she laughed. "Harder than going without chocolate for just one day? If it was anyone other than you saying that I'd have to say I was offended."

He chuckled and took another drink of his cocoa. A contemplative look passed over his face as he cleared his throat. "But, uh, really…I was kind of a dick that day. Honestly, Kali just pissed me off and, uh, I kind of took it out on you. I shouldn't have been such an ass, I'm sorry. Forgive me?" he asked.

The apology wasn't easy for him to utter and Lenore got the impression that the Trickster didn't have to apologize to others very often. She gave him a soft smile and leaned over to place her hand on his. "I won't lie and say that the day we left each other wasn't one of the worst days of my life, but I forgive you. It's all water under the bridge now."

A relieved smile crossed his face as he held out his mug for another cheers, to which she eagerly clinked her mug against his.

It felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders at the realization that Loki forgave her and that he actually asked _her_ forgiveness. That was far more than what she was expecting from him. Her gratitude decided right then and there to not ask him about his potential Angel-ness. Their friendship was precarious and she didn't want to push him by asking about something he clearly wanted a secret. Lenore just hoped that someday Loki would choose to confide in her; that he would come to trust her enough.

"So, speaking of…whatever happened with you and Kali?" Loki asked lightly in an uncaring voice that didn't fool her in the lightest.

"We, um…it lasted for thirty-one years. Then once I realized my calling and she kind of…we broke up," Lenore finished quickly. She didn't want to get emotional about her ex-lover, especially in front of Loki of all people.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Loki said with an apologetic look. "Did you…did you love her?" he added in a cautious voice.

Lenore bit her lip because she didn't want to lie to Loki but she felt awkward discussing their mutual ex. "Yes…I think I loved her before I even knew her," she stated softly.

A stricken look passed over Loki's face but he quickly smoothed it out. "And her? Did she love you, too?"

"Loki," Lenore said uneasily as her eyes darted around the room – anywhere but at him.

He held up his hand. "I promise I won't get mad. I just am curious."

"She said she did…yes, she did," Lenore amended as she looked into the roaring fireplace. A tear started to fall from her left eye and she hated herself at that moment for being so weak – unable to speak about Kali decades after their break-up without crying.

Loki was suddenly sitting at her left side and gently brushed her tear away. His eyes were filled with remorse and something else she couldn't interpret. "I'm sorry. Kali's always been one to play games – when she first took you that's all I thought it was. To know that you loved her…" he winced. "I'm sorry that she hurt you." He laughed weakly. "Trust me, after a thousand years of knowing her I know what _that's_ like."

Lenore leaned into the warmth of Loki's hand and enjoyed the moment of solidarity – it reminded her of their friendship before. "Does the heartbreak ever get better?" she asked sadly.

He sighed. "Not in my experience, Lenore. But I hope in yours." Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, and she clung on just as tightly.

Silent hours passed like that. After all, time lost its meaning when you ceased to age. Finally Loki spoke up.

"Hey, um…do you want to stay for the night? It is kind of late. I can teleport you back to your clan tomorrow morning."

"You know about my clan?" she asked curiously.

"Well, yeah," he snorted. "You've got quite the reputation as the evangelist, Lenore McLeod; bravely saving the souls of vampires by getting them to quit drinking humans." He shrugged at her look of surprise. "People talk."

"Hmm." That was interesting. "Well…yes, I'd love to stay. I should message my clan first."

"No problem." Then he gave her his first truly genuine smile of the day. "Hey, there's a new wolf pack in the woods that you don't know but they might be game for some Capture the Flag. You wanna?"

Lenore laughed and nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

A/N:

Loki & Lenore are friends again! Yay! But there are still mysteries to uncover! *oooh*

I wanted to end the year 2010 on a good note of friendship and fun ;) HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! May you all prosper in every aspect of your lives. Take care tonight if you are celebrating!

**ALSO** There will be a Buffyverse character in the next episode...can you guess?

_References_  
*Fenrir (sometimes spelled 'Fenris'): .org/wiki/Fenrir  
* Rey'tal—'Rey' in Spanish means 'king' and I consider their race to be the supreme badasses of their dimension. (Although no matter how much of a badass demon you are, no one can defeat an angel ;)  
* Lenore snarled at him and used her fury to telekinetically yank the leader through the air and over the Holy Fire. Loki used his body as a bridge to pass over the fire and snapped her out of her rocky prison.- Got this idea from S5 when Lucifer traps Castiel in Holy Fire and Cas uses Meg's body to step through it ;)


	20. A Christmas to Remember

_December 25, 1849  
Rome, Italy  
_

It was the wee hours of Christmas morning and children across the Western world imagined that Santa Claus was flying over them to distribute gifts. The popularity of Santa Claus and gift giving were not at the heights of twentieth century expectations, but in the last thirty years or so the myth of Santa Claus had certainly grown.

Lenore had arrived in Rome earlier this night to begin preparations for her clan's New Year's Eve Ball. It was one of the few nights of the year that all of them congregated in one place – their clan was too large to travel together anymore. In the 104 years since she left Kali to begin her ministry Lenore's efforts had found a good deal of success. Yes, many other – especially older – vampires laughed at her and not all who entered their clan were able to control their Need, but her group had grown to over two-hundred souls.

She credited Loki with part of that success. Since their friendship rekindled twenty-eight years ago she felt a new appreciation for life that transcended into her ministry work. They met up at least once every few months – with him teleporting to wherever she was – and Lenore enjoyed their time together immensely.

Not many of her friends had met Loki though. He preferred to keep a low profile but seemed to like Eli. Sadly, he hadn't liked Maria at all…actually the one time they had met a fight had almost broke out. Lenore had invited Loki over to meet Eli and Lenore a year after they reunited because, crazy her, she had thought it would be good for all of those she cared for to meet one another! But mid-way through the evening she had stepped out for just a moment to speak to a messenger from another vampire clan. Once she had walked inside, Loki and Maria had almost come to blows and neither of them would discuss what it had been about.

That had hurt, to see them not get along, but it didn't matter in the long run – her and Maria only lasted a few more months after that. It was sad but Lenore had just lost interest in her former lover. Maria had left to lead another branch group of their clan and while they were both friendly, there was no more love between them.

Since then Lenore had a couple flings with other female vampires but none of them had flared that _spark_ within her. But when a woman was waiting for the love of her life to be born in about 150 years, it was hard to for others to stack up in comparison.

Lenore tore herself away from her musings and glanced at Signora Isabella Bellini, Director of Wolfram and Hart's Entertainment Department. The woman wore a revealing corset dress in tones of red and her thick brown hair was piled high on her head. They had been meeting for the last hour to finalize plans and were just wrapping things up.

"Baroness Lenore, I do believe we have-a the preliminary arrangements completed. The Fields of Damascus outside the city will play host to your party, forty _Mortemzilinas_ will be imported from the Qur'Toth Dimension, plus several dozen assorted wild animals, and a…" Isabella squinted as she peered at the paper. "And a 'disco ball' will be provided."

Lenore stifled a laugh. "Yes, that will not be too much trouble for your department to create one based off my descriptions?"

"Oh no, Baroness, no!" Isabella declared incredulously in her thick Italian accent. "In fact, I think I like-a this idea verrrry much. Have you thought about patenting this idea?"

"Um, I don't know about that," Lenore shrugged self-consciously. "It's kind of someone else's design."

"Someone else?" Isabella spat over her right shoulder. "Who? I spit on them. No, you are ze designer now," she declared outrageously. "I make-a you verrrry rich."

Lenore laughed. She really did love thick accents, not to mention Wolfram and Hart's single-mindedness at turning a profit. If they weren't the only agency able to help her immortal self she would probably leave on account of them being evil, but she didn't have much choice. Besides, not every employee was evil.

Like, maybe five of them…

"I will think about it Signora Bellini. Thank you for taking care of this."

"Of course. Here at Wolfram and Hart we make-a all of your dreams come true no matter who we have to kill or what dimension we need to use a virgin sacrifice to enter!"

"Uh, yeah," Lenore winced. Wow, she really needed to look into new representation.

Isabella began leading her out but a young teenage boy approached her in the lobby. He wore tailored pants, a vest, and a suit jacket with slicked-backed black hair. "Baroness McLeod?"

"Yes?" For formal interactions, such as Wolfram and Hart, many called her by the old title she had inherited right before she was turned. It didn't bother her as much as it did in the beginning but she didn't care for it much – it made her feel weird.

The boy bowed and presented her with a letter.

Frowning, Lenore looked down at the letter. It was a large cream-colored envelope with a red wax seal affixed to it. She opened it up carefully as Isabella waited patiently next to her (anyone who spent and invested as much money as Lenore always got plenty of excellent customer service here).

_Baroness Eleanor Amelia McLeod O'Neil,_

I know that you recently arrived in Rome and I wished to extend my formal greeting.

I have heard of your adventures throughout Asia, Europe, and Africa and must say I am curious to meet you. Would you do me the honor of attending my annual ball tonight?

Send word back with my servant. I will then send further instructions.

Sincerely Yours,  
The Immortal  


"Who the heck is the Immortal?" Lenore asked in a puzzled voice.

Isabella gasped out loud and clutched her chest while the boy looked at her in surprise. "My Lady! Don't you know of ze Immortal? Ay, he is," she licked her lips with a lustful look. "He is-a a longtime patron of _Roma_ but he travels as he pleases. He is an immortal, though none know of his true heritage." Isabella leaned in close. "I saw him but-a once at a festival and I assure you he is-a the most attractive man I have ever-a witnessed."

"Oh, okay," Lenore chuckled. She usually didn't go for men – actually she never been with a man yet, even if she had been attracted to a few in her life – so she doubted she would enjoy this Immortal as much as Isabella. "But what does he want with me?"

"I cannot know for certain," Isabella shrugged. "Ze Immortal is neither on the side of light or dark, rather he does as he pleases. He is a wild card, a wolf removed from the pack, a stallion without ze bridle."

She shrugged casually. "Ze Immortal, he like-a meet ze new supernatural power players in town. He-a like to know-a what is a-going on-a in his city."

"Uh huh," Lenore raised her eyebrows in amusement before she turned to the servant boy. "Tell your master that I will attend his ball."

"_Grazi_, Baroness," the boy bowed before leaving.

Lenore just hoped that this Immortal guy wasn't interested in causing any trouble – she was already stressed enough by her Christmas plans for tonight and planning her own ball.

A knock on the door sounded and Lenore smiled at herself in the mirror. She dressed up naturally – in both of her lives she had always been a fan of skirts and dresses – but tonight she had styled her hair and done her make-up. After all, it was the holidays – wasn't it sort of expected? Not to mention she had this mysterious ball to attend.

She opened the door with a wide smile and was engulfed in a huge bear hug. Loki twirled her around as she giggled uncontrollably. "Lo-_ki_! Put me down!"

He obliged with a cheeky grin. "I love that I can make a 177 year old vampire giggle like a little schoolgirl."

Lenore rolled her eyes and took Loki's coat. He was dressed in the Italian fashions of the day, tight grey slacks and a long black jacket, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" he asked her suspiciously.

"Your clothes," she smirked.

"Hey! These came straight from Castangia, which I'll have you know is only _the_ elite tailor house of the city!" he stated defensively as his hands ran up and down the smooth lines of his jacket.

"Okay, okay," Lenore said as she held up her hands. "I'm just saying, I really cannot wait for the twentieth century fashions to come."

Loki eyed her own outfit and smirked. "Like you're one to talk."

Lenore looked down at her carefully selected dress . It was similar to most dresses of the time and had a wide hoop skirt with flaring sleeves. The Jacquard woven silk fabric was cream with dark blue floral patterns. Its wide neckline that showcased her shoulders and fell right above the line of her cleavage. Matching bows were set in her hair and she even had a delicately sewn shawl that went with the dress.

"You don't like?" she pouted.

Loki gave her a gentlemanly bow and kissed the top of her hand. "I love it, Lady Lenore." He grinned as he stood up. "In fact I haven't seen you this dressed up since the Summer Solstice about a decade ago."

Shrugging her shoulders, Lenore sat down on her hotel room's loveseat. "Well it _is_ Christmas. I figured, why not?"

Something sparked in his eye at the word 'Christmas' and Lenore had to restrain herself from saying anything. Almost three decades into their renewed friendship and he still had yet to say anything about his other identity. Lenore was trying _real_ hard to remain respectful of his decisions but her curiosity was killing her.

"Also," she added, "I got invited to a ball tonight."

"A ball? Tonight?" he questioned suspiciously. "Who the heck could be throwing a ball on Christmas?"

"Someone named the Immortal," Lenore shrugged as she stood up to randomly straighten a painting on the wall.

"What?" Loki shouted. "What's he want with you?"

Lenore glanced at him in surprise. "Geez, Loki. Overreact much?"

Loki approached her and grabbed her upper arms. "Lenore, the Immortal is not someone to be trifled with. Not to mention, he's a giant dick. Why are you going?"

Now she began to feel nervous about her plans tonight. "Well, I was at Wolfram and Hart—"

"—Hmmph!" Loki made a noise of disgust. He hated that she had an account with them but he had never provided a better alternative for her, so too bad for him.

"—And I got a letter from him inviting me because he heard I was in the city. Apparently he considers this, according to my Wolfram and Hart representative, to be his city and I bet he wants to meet me before the End of Year Ball that I'm hosting. After all, nothing like two-hundred vampires in your city to freak you out."

Rolling his eyes, Loki sat down. "Maybe," he snorted. "But I don't like the kid – he's an arrogant sonofabitch."

"Tell me how you really feel," Lenore commented dryly.

Loki tossed her a glare. "Fine," he then sighed reluctantly. "You can go to this ball but I'm going with you to make sure he doesn't start trouble."

Her first impulse was to be happy that Loki was going to the ball with her – they never went to public events together. But as his words seeped into her mind she found herself grimacing. "Oh, gee, _thank_ you for your permission, Loki," she hissed angrily as she crossed her arms. "I'm so glad I have _you_ around to help me make my decisions."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"Loki! I'm almost two-hundred years old and certainly do not need your 'permission' to attend, nor do I need your assistance." He opened his mouth to speak but Lenore cut him off. "I'm strong and I know how to fight using both my body and magic. Don't you think I can take care of myself?"

"Well, yeah, sure! But it's not _that_ that I'm worried about," he defended himself as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Well then what?" she rolled her eyes at the pagan god.

"The Immortal is kind of a…man-tart," Loki explained with a shrug.

"A…a what?" Lenore laughed.

"You know! He just likes to sleep with every infamous babe in history! Trust me, the Immortal is _not_ to be trusted," Loki grumbled.

Laughing, Lenore sat next to Loki on the love seat. "Loki, you're being silly. I'm sure the Immortal doesn't want to _sleep_ with me," she scoffed. "Besides, I'm not really an 'infamous babe'."

"Trust me Lenore, you're definite 'babe' material," Loki smirked with a long look over her body. "And infamous, too."

"Oh you sweet talker you," Lenore silenced with a smack on his arm as she rolled her eyes.

"Don't you know it." Then he got serious. "And okay, _fine_, I am taking away my 'permission' for you to go. Now, may I please join you at tonight's ball?" he asked with all the nicety of a young child begging to stay up past their bedtime.

Lenore pretended to think it over before she smiled. "Okay. I suppose I should be nice since it _is_ Christmas, after all," she smirked.

"Speaking of Christmas, do you have my prezzie?" he asked excitedly as he lightly bumped his shoulder against hers.

"Is that all you think about?" she laughed. "I didn't even think you celebrated Christmas, Mr. Pagan God."

"Silly, silly Lenore," Loki sighed as he patted her hand fondly. "Don't you read your history?"

"Well," she began with a raised brow, "I have read the Bible many times over and quite a bit of history."

"Don't you know where gift giving came from?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"The Magi? Those guys who gave baby Jesus presents?"

"Nope!" he declared with a grin. "It's actually a Germanic tradition derived from, oh, I don't know – Norse mythology!" Lenore laughed as he stood up and did a little victory dance.

"Do tell," she said curiously.

"Legend says that my old friend Odin used to ride around on an eight-legged horse and all the good little children were encouraged to leave food for him and the horse. In exchange, Odin would leave prezzies."

Loki rolled his eyes. "The Catholic Church is adept at exploiting pagan traditions in order to convert the locals," he explained.

"Uh huh," Lenore mused. See, it was times like now that Lenore figured she had something wrong about her hypothesis. Every once in a while Loki would say something against the church or religion that made her think he couldn't possibly be an angel. "Well that's interesting."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Enough talking, more unwrapping," he waggled his eyebrows.

With a dramatic groan, Lenore reached to the side of her love seat and picked up a small wrapped box. "Merry Christmas, you crazy pagan god," she smirked.

Feigning disappointment, Loki sighed.

"What?" Lenore asked hesitantly. "You haven't even opened it yet!"

"I know. I was just hoping my prezzie was going to be you jumping out of a cake nude or something," he leered.

"Oh for the love of…just open it!" Lenore huffed. Honestly, Loki hadn't changed from the day she first met him.

His eyes widened in surprise as he opened the box, in awe of what she had given him.

"I figure we met 150 years ago – well, come January first will be our technical 'anniversary' I 'spose –so I wanted to give you something special." He didn't say anything but just continued to finger the contents of the box, so she continued to speak nervously. "I mean, hey! Pagan gods are pretty hard to shop for, what with them being able to create whatever they want out of thin air and all, so I figured I should make you something."

She leaned closer and carefully pointed out different parts of the item. "See, I figured that most of our time together has been under the moon, especially hunting and all those Capture the Flag games with the wolves. So I created this spell that gathered the light of the moon during each full moon, hardened it, and turned it into rock. The silver chain that holds up the moonstone pendent has protective spells etched into the metal. I mean, I know you can protect yourself, hello pagan god, but I figured it couldn't hurt." Realizing she was babbling, Lenore snapped her mouth shut and waited for him to say something.

"Lenore…how long did this take to make?" he whispered as he delicately fingered the moonstone. It glowed a soft white, was in a perfect circle, the shape of the moon itself, and was about five inches in diameter.

"Um, not really that long," she stammered in an embarrassed voice.

He gave her a sharp look. "How long?"

"Um…Well the spell took several years to figure out and the moonstone took…um, twenty-five years to form," she answered with averted eyes.

"You've been working on this gift for that long?"

"Y-yeah," she shrugged self-consciously. "I mean, it's not a big deal or anything. I just, well, you scared me when those demons had you so I wanted to create a protective charm for you. The moonstone can emit no light at all or will release a light that burns anything impure – at the discretion of the wearer, of course."

Loki put the pendent over his neck, kissed her cheek, and hugged her. "Well, damn. Thank you Lenore. This is the best gift anyone on Earth has ever given me. Hmm. The only bad thing is my gift doesn't match up at all!" he said sheepishly.

She waved away his concern. "I'm sure I'll love anything that you give me."

"No way! I can't let the vampire show up the pagan god in the gift giving department, can I?" he grinned. "How about this? I give you my original gift as a consolation prize and work on something much more kick ass for later?"

"Okay," Lenore shook her head with a smile. "Gosh, you're so competitive."

"Duh. I am only _the_ most competitive person in the world!"

Lenore just let out a heavy sigh. "Why are we even friends again?" she asked in a tired voice.

"Cause you love me!" he retorted with a lopsided grin and twinkling eyes.

Lenore and Loki stood outside a magnificent villa made of rich marble with a sloping roof and high columns. Lit torches identified the entrance and as they walked in a servant took their cloaks. The mosaic floor was home to a multitude of ancient statues, notably in the form of several Greek and Roman gods according to the bronze plates attached to the statues' base, if Lenore's Greek and Latin was correct. Another servant led them down a long hallway until they came to the center of the villa, which was filled with dozens upon dozens of milling partygoers. Flickering torch flames lit the expanses of the room, a string quartet played in the back corner, and a bountiful table was filled with typical party food, as well as very atypical items such as deer hearts, a pitcher of blood, and a bowl of live kittens.

The last item made Lenore shiver in disgust – it also made her wonder if Spike's friend Clem had a great-grandfather around here somewhere.

"Interesting party," Lenore commented as she took in the various humans, human-esque, and straight out demonic denizens of the place.

"Yeah, real interesting," Loki said in a distracted voice as he looked towards the center of the room.

"What is it?" she asked as she followed his eyes. There, in the center of the room, were a group of laughing men and women – some of the most beautiful people she had ever seen in her life. One man caught her eye in particular. He had rich black hair that swayed along with his laughter and bright blue eyes that sparkled under the firelight. His finely tailored suit encased over six-feet of broad-shouldered muscled man – a sight so divine that had even Lenore second-guessing why she usually preferred women over men.

It was then that those twinkling blue eyes swiveled to meet hers and suddenly her throat felt dry. His face was classical Greek; chiseled and handsome with a straight nose, thin lips, and a healthy, tanned complexion. Wisdom lurked in his eyes but so did a good deal of passion that she suspected was often at odds with the former. He smiled at her then, said parting words to his companions, and made his way towards them.

"Oh great, here he comes," Loki muttered. "Freaking walking like a peacock, that one."

"Loki, hush. He'll hear you," Lenore hissed.

When he stepped up to them to kiss the back of her hand, Lenore fought to deny the shiver that ached to run down her back. "Baroness Lenore, I am the Immortal. It is a _pleasure_ to finally meet you," he spoke in a soft accented voice. "I am pleased that you decided to accept my invitation."

Lenore found herself giggling in response, which was something she normally never would do but she couldn't seem to help herself. "Of course, thank you for the invitation."

The Immortal glanced down at Loki next to her. "Ah, you brought a little friend. How nice," he stated lightly but she could tell he was perturbed.

"It's Loki, you ass. Don't pretend like you don't recognize me."

A slow smile slid across his face. "Loki. Of course. You just seem shorter than when I saw you last."

"You and I both know I could take the form of an extremely pissed off polar bear wearing freaking armor if I wanted to right now," Loki said in an irate voice.

Lenore clasped his elbow. "Loki, calm down," she begged. Huh, maybe this was the reason why they never socialized with others.

"It's alright, Lenore," the Immortal grinned. "Loki and I go way back – ever since I slayed the foul Jörmungandr back in the day."

"Jörmungandr?" Lenore whispered as Loki began shaking in rage.

"My son," he spat with burning eyes as his hands curled into fists.

"Oh," Lenore whispered as she looked between the two. Now she remembered that Jörmungandr, a great serpent, was Loki's other son with the giantess Angboda, if what she had seen in that old Norse mythology book years ago was correct.

"Loki, come now. Surely you must be over that? Jörmungandr was threatening to destroy the world," the Immortal scoffed.

"He never would have done it; kid was all talk!" Loki muttered. "Asshole."

"Suit yourself, Loki," the Immortal sighed.

"As you say, _Heracles_," Loki stated snarkily.

Fire flashed through the Immortal's eyes as he took a threatening step towards Loki. "Watch yourself Trickster. None know of my true past and that is how I wish it."

"Hmm. Would be a shame if I accidentally shouted it out loud then, wouldn't it?" Loki grinned evilly as he, too, took a step forward.

As Lenore debated on what she should do, while also wondering just who 'Heracles' was and if he had something to do with 'Hercules', a ravishing young woman appeared between the two, placing her palm on each of their chests. She wore a cleavage-baring gown, had thick curly blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and mischievous blue eyes.

"Calm yourself, gentlemen," she ordered with a flirting smile in Loki's direction.

"Aphrodite," he whispered in surprise as his eyes traveled over her attractive form. "I didn't know you'd be here."

The woman – who Lenore was guessing was the Greek Goddess Aphrodite but couldn't _really_ believe it – suddenly gave Loki a deep kiss that left the other pagan sputtering stupidly.

"I…wha…wow," Loki sighed as he stared at her.

Lenore was felt a wave of displeasure wash over her at the realization that these two knew each other in an intimate sense. Geez, who hadn't Loki slept with at this point?

Well, okay…so far she had only met two goddesses, but still…

"My brother told me he invited the Vampire Saint, so I assumed that you would be travelling along with your pet," Aphrodite smiled as her hand curled around Loki's left bicep.

"Wait, Vampire Saint? And, I'm not his pet!" Lenore declared with folded arms. Honestly, what was with gods and goddesses thinking of people – mmkay, vampires – as pets?

Aphrodite gave her an amused look. "Many stories associate you with Loki, as well as Kali. I just assumed you were the pet of the gods, Lenore." Then she directed a salacious look between her brother and Lenore. "But perhaps you are interested in a new master?"

"I have no master," Lenore stated sternly. "And please do not call me a 'Saint'," she added in embarrassment.

"It is what they call you," Aphrodite shrugged, much like she didn't care one way or another. "The Prophetess of the Lord who struggles to redeem her fallen vampiric race."

Then Aphrodite turned her batting eyelashes to Loki as she ran her hands over the front of his shirt. "Loki my love, it has been too long. Perhaps you would like to 'catch up'?"

Loki gulped and barely spared Lenore another glance. "See you later, Lenore," he called as Aphrodite led him away.

The sight of them leaving sparked a strong feeling of jealously within Lenore. Not that she cared for Loki like that…at least she didn't think she did. Sure, she found him plenty attractive and sometimes she found herself recalling that Valentine's Day moment on the mountain where a part of her wondered what would have happened had that comet not crashed into the mountain …but…no. She didn't. And she couldn't. He was her best friend – their love was perfect as it was.

Not to mention she knew Loki didn't and couldn't love her. He was just a friend, that was all.

Yes, she was just jealous because Loki was _her_ friend and here was this floozy Goddess of Love carting him off and leaving her alone with the Immortal. Speaking of which…

"Would you care for a tour of the grounds, Lenore?" the Immortal asked with a charming smile as he held out his arm for her.

Lenore found her heart beat stronger at his nearness – goodness the man was a perfect example of male beauty – and answered him almost shyly. "I would like that."

A/N:

The Buffyverse character in this chapter is the Immortal, who was featured in Angel Season 5 as a rumored lover of Buffy.

Thanks for reading!

_References_:  
* _Origins of Santa_:  
*_"The Immortal is neither on the side of light or dark, rather he does as he pleases. He is a wild card, a wolf removed from the pack, a stallion without ze bridle._" -Description of the Immortal from the Angel S5 episode "The Girl in Question': .com/wiki/The_Immortal  
*_Quor-Toth Dimension_: The dimension featuring in Angel – the place where his son Connor grew up for 17 years.  
*History of men's fashions, which began picking up in 1850: .com/fashion/men-fashion  
*At the time Lenore was there _Italy was not yet a single country although it was close to being there_: .org/wiki/History_of_Italy#Unification_.281814_to_1861.29 & .org/wiki/Italian_unification  
* _Map of Italy_ before it became a single country in 1871: .org/wiki/File:Unification_of_Italy_  
*This is how I imagine _Lenore's __dress __to look like_  
*_"You and I both know I could take the form of an extremely pissed off polar bear wearing freaking armor if I wanted to right now_: A reference to The Golden Compass, where their polar bears get to wear armor! ;)  
*Loki's other son, _Jormungandr_: .org/wiki/J%C3%B6rmungandr  
*Jormungandr was killed by Thor in Norse mythology and Thor is also compared to a certain other god-figure due to their similar weapons, so that's why I had the Immortal kill Loki's son instead of Thor: .org/wiki/Thor_(god)  
*_Aphrodite_: .org/wiki/Aphrodite  
****special note: I took several Women's History courses in college, including 'Women of the Victorian Age' and that included researching women's dresses. Hence, my interest in providing you with the extra clothing info ;)


	21. Family Reunion

_December 25, 1849  
Rome, Italy  
_

"So tell me about yourself, Lenore. I am curious if all the rumors are true," the Immortal stated casually as he led her through the immaculate grounds of his `villa.

"Oh, I'm not really that interesting," Lenore replied shyly. She wasn't a fan of talking about her own deeds – especially if this man was who she thought he was. Her arm was laid over his as he escorted her and already she was feeling slightly warm at his touch.

The Immortal smiled warmly at her and lightly stroked her arm. "No? I think not," he disagreed in a soft accented voice. "I have heard many stories of you."

Her lips curling into a wry grin, Lenore glanced up at him. "Yes, it seems so, if your sister's response was anything. I did not know that people knew I was once a Prophetess."

"Oh, let's just say that some of Aurelius' men stumbled into Rome one night a few decades ago," the Immortal shrugged with a devious smile.

"A-Aurelius' men?" Lenore questioned with a slight shudder at the name of her former captor.

"Yes. It seems they were hunting for you whilst their master slept. Fools were on their way to Egypt, where I believe you were at the time." Dark blue eyes analyzed her reaction and he smirked. "Curious man that I am, I invited them over and learned what I could. Then I killed them."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I've never been a fan of Aurelius and I didn't want you killed before I had a moment to meet your lovely self."

Lenore rolled her eyes at his sweet talk. "Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course," he grinned. "You were already well known by that time and I daresay, I was quite curious about you – even more so after I head from Aurelius' men. A witch and prophetess turned into a vampire, then abstaining from human blood and creating her own cult of vampires? Quite intriguing."

Lenore didn't know how to respond to that so she shrugged.

"Not to mention I've heard you to be a paramour of Kali and Loki. Although, I apologize for my sister taking him from you tonight – she has that way with all males."

"What? Oh no, I don't mind," Lenore laughed – even if, okay, maybe she did a tad. "Kali and I were lovers, yes. That is well known. But Loki is just my friend and confidant."

The Immortal's dark blue eyes gleamed with interest under the light of the moon. "Indeed? I must say, I was hoping you were unattached."

Lenore giggled under the effects of his penetrating stare and a part of her wanted to smack herself for giving into her hormones while being around this man. "Yes, I am quite unattached…but you do realized I've only, by choice, been with women, yes?"

He smirked at her and pulled her closer. "Life is made up of hundreds of choices – thousands for those who are immortal such as us. Tell me, could you ever see yourself making a choice that involved a man?" he asked huskily.

She shivered a little at his tone and found herself pressing close to him. His looks, her persona…it was all very attractive. The mystery that surrounded him only increased it.

Besides, stupid Loki was off with Aphrodite so shouldn't Lenore get to have some fun as well?

"As you know I am a prophetess," Lenore smiled slyly as she lifted her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "And I do believe I see such a choice being made in the very near future."

Letting out a low chuckle the Immortal bent his head low and captured her lips in a kiss. Lenore pressed her hands against his broad and muscled chest; a tiny part of her brain marveling at the difference in kissing a man compared to a woman. The Immortal was all hard lines and taut muscle, his arms a safe haven as he gathered her against him. Lips that were thin but felt soft and heavenly pressed against hers and her body involuntarily pressed tightly against his waist. The sudden pressure there and hardness surprised her for a moment – it had been a very, very long time since she had felt such a thing – but Lenore found herself rather enjoying the firmness of the Immortal's body.

"Lenore," he rasped after he pulled back from a prolonged spell of kissing. "Perhaps I should show you my bedroom during this tour?"

She laughed at his words but her stomach twisted at the same time. What was she thinking kissing this strange man…the same man who Loki said just loved to sleep with all the 'infamous chicks'? Lenore didn't want to get _used_ but at the same time she felt a strong ache for the man. A part of her was curious as to what it would be like to make love to a man (not be forced to have sex as she was by Connor and Aurelius), especially one who would be as skilled as the Immortal. Of course, what if she was horrible? And he laughed at her?

With that thought Lenore felt herself pulling back. "N-not that I d-don't want to see your bedroom," she stammered, "but I don't want to pull you away from the party for too long. I'm sure you have many other guests to greet."

A distressed look crossed his face before he shrugged. "I suppose you are right…but please know the invitation is always there," he winked before kissing her lightly on the lips.

"I-I'll remember that," she answered breathlessly.

They spoke casually during their walk to the party and the entire time Lenore was second-guessing her decision. The Immortal was extremely good-lucking and just possessed this 'zing' that made her want to take a chance with him. But no, she had made the right decision…she hoped.

The ball was in full swing by the time they returned with at least a hundred guests present by now. The Immortal was quite polite and introduced her around the room as he greeted his guests. Some of them knew of her, some did not, but all appeared quite interested in her after the Immortal's introduction – which was quite unnerving. Lenore hated the spotlight.

Finally they came to two 'gentlemen' whose introduction had Lenore almost spitting out her otter blood. One was a dark-haired man with a pale face and seductive air and the other was a demon with bluish-grey skin, a white beard tied with a hair band, and two horns sticking out of his head.

"Lady Lenore, this is Count Dracula."

"A pleasure, my striking beauty," he murmured as he pressed cool lips to the back of her hand.

"You too," she managed to say in a dazed voice. When Dracula came to Sunnydale Tara had never seen him and she had been slightly surprised that Willow had found him attractive. But now…goodness, now she completely understood.

"And this is D'Hoffryn, Lord of Arashmaharr."

The demon smiled at her and gave a gallant bow. "Lady Lenore, how lovely to meet you. I hear you are associated with the trickster god Loki?" She nodded and his smile brightened. "I do love his work. He gets in the way of my girls sometimes, but he truly is an artist when it comes to vengeance."

Recognition hit her. She _knew_ his name sounded familiar. This was Anyanka's boss and the demon that had tried to recruit Willow during college!

"Lord D'Hoffryn, it is a pleasure to meet you. You oversee the vengeance demons, yes?"

"D'Hoffryn, please my dear. And yes. I've got a lovely set of girls. Just yesterday one of them, Anyanka, managed to get the pope to sell his soul!" he told her in a chipper voice that contrasted greatly with his appearance.

"Oh, well that's, um, very nice," Lenore told him as Dracula and the Immortal gave their congratulations to the demon.

"Isn't it?" D'Hoffryn smiled.

"That Anyanka of yours is a spitfire," Dracula smiled knowingly. "It has been some time since our fling. It is good to hear she is excelling in her work," he said in his smooth Eastern European accent.

"Oh she's here actually," D'Hoffryn said as he pointed to a darkened corner of the room. Anyanka was there kissing a strange man with fervor. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her dress was a vivid green that reminded Lenore of the bridesmaid dresses that Anya had forced her, Willow, and Buffy to wear.

"Oh, Immortal, I vanted you to meet some of my acquaintances from Russia. Are you busy?" Dracula asked suddenly as several men in capes waved to him from across the ballroom.

"Not at all. Do you mind, Lenore?" the Immortal asked her in a considerate voice.

"Oh, no. You're fine," she smiled as the three males excused themselves and then she was all alone.

Stupid Loki. If only he weren't with that dumb goddess maybe she'd have someone to talk to.

Although, she supposed she did know Anyanka in this timeline. Although she seemed awfully busy at the moment. But still…she was feeling like her insecure self standing her alone in the middle of the party. She watched Anyanka carefully and waited for the woman to catch some air. Finally, once her lips departed from her dark-haired companion to take a sip of wine, Lenore walked over there.

"Hi Anyanka, how are you?" The vengeance demon turned and gave her an odd look. Her body effectively blocked her companion's face, which was a shame because Lenore was curious to know if tall, dark-haired, and handsome really was Anya's type.

"Hello. Are we friends?" she asked matter-of-factly. She gave Lenore a perplexed look and turned her head slightly to get a different look at her.

Lenore let out a choking laugh. "Um, well you showed up in a rescue attempt once and later saved me from a rampaging angel. So…maybe?"

"Hmm. Usually I become friends through some sort of bloody massacre – that is how Hallie and I became friends, after all. I suppose we could always engage in a massacre together later this evening, but not if your pet god is around because I am still angry at him for cursing this group of samurai that I had completely called dibs on."

Laughing, Lenore shook her head. "He's with Aphrodite. And as much as I wouldn't mind being friends, could we skip the massacre? I don't kill humans."

"Pfft," Anya rolled her eyes as the man behind her wrapped his arms around her waist and began kissing the back of her neck. So engrossed in his kissing, he didn't bother to look at Lenore so she still couldn't really see his face…but there was something about him…something that tugged on her mind in the strangest of ways…

"What is your name, anyway? On account of being almost killed by that avenging angel, I don't even remember your name."

"Lenore," she informed her patiently. Anyanka was a struggle to speak to, but at least she was someone to talk to.

Anyanka's companion's head jerked up and he gazed at her with wide eyes and dilated pupils. He stared into Lenore's face with an amount of intensity that left Lenore feeling quite uncomfortable. That tugging was still there, that insistence that there was something about this man, but he wasn't familiar to her at all.

"Anyanka, my _bella_, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" he asked in a husky voice right into her ear.

"Why? I was just about to tell her to leave so you could give me orgasms in a back bedroom," Anyanka rolled her eyes.

Lenore let out a silent groan. No, being the insecure girl alone at a huge party would definitely be better than befriending Anyanka.

"Come now Anya, we should be polite." He approached Lenore and clasped her hand. Something sparked in his eyes and for a moment Lenore felt a wave of sadness wash over him. "Aren't you pretty as a picture?" he murmured.

"Ah, thank you," she responded awkwardly. Her hand buzzed with energy from him holding it, but not the sexy-kind of energy she felt from the Immortal or even (not that she liked to admit it, but she did feel it occasionally) Loki. No, this was something different…old yet pure.

Lenore gulped. He felt like family.

…Was this one of her descendents? After all, who else could it be? And if so, why on God's green earth was he with a demon?

"And just what is your name, sir?"

"Crowley," he said with a charming smile that faltered for a moment. "And you are friends with my dear Anyanka?"

"Something like that." Lenore laughed as Anyanka rolled her eyes and said, "Maybe if we shared in a slaughter together."

Crowley smirked. "What say you, Lenore? Care to join us for a slaughter? We just took the Pope's soul yesterday, on Christmas Eve of all things, and are still celebrating my promotion. I think there is a convent not too far from here – there's nothing like the taste of Vatican nun, after all."

"No thank you," she said in revulsion. "I don't kill humans."

"Why not?" he asked quickly. "Aren't you a vampire?"

"Well, yes," she answered with an uncomfortable shrug. "But that doesn't mean I need to kill humans to live. I live off animal blood."

Crowley started laughing and Lenore glared at him. "What's so funny?"

He forced himself to stop laughing and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You were joking, weren't you?"

"No," Anyanka rolled her eyes. "Can't you just smell the do-gooderness wafting off of her?"

Jerking back in shock, Crowley stared at her. "So…you managed to stay good, even after all these years?"

Lenore didn't like this. He felt so familiar, like she should know him and he just spoke to her like she should know him as well. "Excuse me, but do I know you?"

A wall slammed into place and she was unable to read his emotions. "I don't believe so darling, unless I ever happened to take your soul. Although," he added thoughtfully, "I suppose it's the other type that lose their souls. Hmm. I'd love to get my hands on a vampire's soul someday though. Quite a gem in the rough!"

"Yeah…okay," she mumbled awkwardly. "Um, well I'm going to get a drink. Nice seeing you Anyanka…and nice meeting you, Crowley."

The light dimmed in his eyes. "It was nice meeting you as well…Len."

She stiffened and swallowed heavily. No…it couldn't be. "Len?" she repeated.

Crowley shrugged casually. "What, would you prefer Eleanor?"

Lenore took a closer look and peered behind the _Maya_ and into his aura. It was black, darker than the night, but a sallow stripe of grey pulsed within it. It struck her that she knew this soul, even if she didn't know the body it belonged to. "What are you?" she whispered.

"Demon, darling," he smirked knowingly.

"But not a very cool one," Anyanka snorted. "Stuck in hell unless the King of the Crossroads lets you out to play and buy up pretty souls, and even then you have to find a new human host. It's frustrating trying to figure out who you are every decade I see you."

Not even thinking about her actions, Lenore walked up to him and lightly brushed the pads of her fingers over his cheek. "You are a true demon," she whispered. "One that's been twisted by the horrors of hell."

A dark look rolled like thunder through his eyes. "I told you I am a cunning bastard," he said with a sly smile. "They couldn't keep me strapped to the rack forever."

Lenore swallowed heavily and let out a shaky breath. Her fingertips memorized his face, the one he borrowed, and she stared into his eyes to memorize his soul. "I've thought about you often. I've dreamt of your torment…dear God Fergus, how are you?"

He frowned, clasped her hands, and lowered her arms. "_God_ had nothing to do with it, Len. I fought through the ranks, tooth and nail and spleen and kidney, to get promoted to being a Crossroads Demon, just to get out."

"A Crossroads Demon?" she frowned. "But…isn't that what took you?"

Fergus – or Crowley or whoever! – shrugged carelessly. "Yes."

"So you…you take people's souls?" she asked in a horrified voice.

"Ah, I like to think of it as being in the 'sales' business," he smiled with a wave of his hands.

"My _God_ Fergus, you steal souls? What on earth are you thinking?" she asked in an angry, hushed whisper – she didn't want to cause a scene after all.

"What are you two, exes?" Anyanka interjected. "Listen Lenore, I had him first."

"He's not my ex," she refuted in annoyance. "He's my—"

"—Acquaintance," Fergus finished swiftly. "Could you give us a moment, _bella_?"

Anyanka glared at Lenore. "Fine," she huffed as she went to replenish her wine glass.

"What was that about?"

"No one can know my true heritage. Not to mention it wouldn't help my reputation at all to have a vampire sister who doesn't kill humans," he rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to work my way up, Len, so don't spoil it for me."

Sighing heavily, Lenore pressed her hand against her throbbing temple. "What the hell, Fergus? How the hell did you get to be a demon and _why_ are you acting like one?"

Fergus scoffed angrily and folded his arms. "My, aren't you understanding. Gee, when you told me you were a vampire you didn't see _me_ giving you the third degree, you hypocrite."

Feeling ashamed, Lenore lowered her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. But hearing my _brother_ talk about slaughtering nuns and taking the freaking _Pope's_ soul is pretty intense."

"I know," he smirked. "Things do change. Quite exciting though. Anyanka understands the demonic sales industry so we've been screwing like rabbits for a while now. Last night some slighted nun wished that the Pope would sell his soul so Anyanka recruited me and now I am one of three Crossroads Demons who have procured a Pope's soul." Fergus leaned in dramatically. "Very exciting, I assure you."

Lenore took a step back and stared at him in shock. "Fergus…I know you've always been rough around the edges but this…? How can you enjoy this type of work?"

Fergus gave her an endearing smile. "How can I not?"

Frightened by this twisted version of her brother, Lenore took another step back. "No…this can't be true. No."

"Honestly Lenore," Fergus rolled his eyes. "Did you think I'd climb out of hell shitting rainbows and knitting baby booties? So my interests are a bit…unconventional. I'm still glad to see you."

Her heart softened at the sincerity of his voice. "Well, I am glad that you aren't being tortured anymore. But…can't you try to be good? There is some good in you, I can see it. Please Fergus, don't…" Lenore could barely even wrap her head around the concept, it made her sick to her stomach "…please don't take anymore souls."

"If I don't take souls I get demoted. Trust me when I say that would be a bad thing and taken quite literally in hell. Besides Len, I'm good at what I do. Don't worry about me."

Anyanka's voice carried through the ballroom as the band began playing a waltz. "Crowley, come dance with me!"

Her brother…if she could even call him that anymore…gave her an unreadable look. Bending down, he kissed her on the top of the head and cupped her cheek. "No matter what, I will always love you little sister." Then he was off and Lenore was left speechless and heartbroken.

Ten minutes later she found the Immortal and asked him, quote, "I want you to fuck me senseless right this moment", to which he adamantly agreed.

And that was how Lenore tried to forget the evil in her beloved brother and learned all the many ways of having sexual relations with a man.

A/N:

Whew! Long time no update for this fic! Sorry, Musie just needed a break, plus I couldn't decide how I wanted to write Crowley/Fergus.

Also, my summary for my Gabriel Big Bang is due tomorrow and I got *nuthin* Arrrgh. Thinking about forgetting it but the world needs more Gabe stories! I am contemplating a Gabe story based on the Gabriel I've written in this story (like a spin-off) or doing a different kind of BTVS crossover or doing a standard Gabe-centered mythology one.

I would love to hear any and all suggestions – please feed the muse! :)


	22. Aphrodite's Games

_December 26, 1849  
Rome, Italy  
_

Lenore woke up the next morning with three main thoughts running through her head.

One: Where were her clothes?

Two: Wow, if sex with most men was even half as good as it was with the Immortal, then maybe she needed to broaden her sexuality preferences.

Three: Her brother was a demon.

She sighed and slowly began to inch over to the side of the bed. The Immortal – or Heracles as he said she could call him, as long as she didn't mention it to anyone else – was fast asleep on the other side of his king-sized bed. A red silk sheet was tangled around her leg and it took all of her supernatural grace not to fall out of bed while trying to get out of the sheet. Finding success, she peered around the dark room (the Immortal had been kind enough to pull his thick drapes closed since as a vampire she didn't care much for the sun) and saw her dress hanging over a chair.

Lenore quietly crept to the chair and held up the dress, her brows furrowing as she wondered how to put the complicated 19th century dress back on.

"Good morning _bella_. My, you are quite the sight," a sly voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Oh, hello," Lenore greeted in surprise as she held her dress in front of her naked form. She had never slept with anyone after just knowing them for a few hours so this felt quite awkward.

The Immortal grinned and sat up halfway on his left elbow, allowing the silk sheet to fall down to his belly button. Sun-darkened skin and well-formed muscles made quite the pretty picture; she smiled in spite of herself.

"Leaving so soon?" He sat up all the way and his smile turned impish. "I was hoping we would have an opportunity to continue our lessons from last night."

Lenore blushed. Last night he had certainly given her many 'hands-on' lessons in male-female lovemaking. The logical part of her mind chastised her for being rather reckless and sleeping with him but there was a slightly wilder side to her that had taken hold of her decision-making last night – and that side congratulated her on receiving all 'As' in her studies with him.

"Well, I did not want to tarry; I do have quite a few things to plan for the party," she explained with a shrug as she tried to bite back a smile.

His brow rose in amusement. "You do know that in _Italia_ we are always late to everything? Procrastination is one of the things we do best."

She laughed and shook her head. "Well us Scots are a punctual lot."

In a flash he was standing in front of her and setting her dress back on the chair. Then he was kissing her and her body was molding to his. His kisses tasted like red wine, bitter yet intoxicating. Lenore couldn't quite understand why she was so infatuated with him but she didn't particularly care, either.

And in a moment she was forgetting all her cares in the world.

Half the day passed and they were both still naked in bed. She was curled around his hulking frame and his arm was wrapped around her as they drank some of Italy's finest red wine. Most of the day was spent in the throes of passion but in between Lenore was discovering that she actually, kind of, _liked_ the Immortal. He was extremely intelligent and well-read on a number of topics and they differed in opinion enough to argue – which of course always resulted in some sort of sexual activity.

She was surprised that she was having fun.

"No, I tell you, I hate the magics. They are devious and don't allow for a level field."

Lenore turned to give him an incredulous look. "Magic is not devious, only the person commanding it _may_ be devious. Magic is a huge part of who I am – I don't understand how you can hate it."

"You heard Loki mention my real name last night, yes?"

She nodded. "Heracles."

"I assume you're used to the Roman version of Hercules?"

She nodded again.

"Well, that is who I am. Son of Zeus and Alcmene. My father loved me but I was the target of his goddess consort and many others. I endured many trials – trials that also included magic users." A dark look passed through his eyes. "Of which I am sure you are familiar, so I shan't bore you with the stories. When my death day came my mortal body burned in a funeral pyre, leaving only the god aspect of my self. My father, Zeus, granted me with immortality." He regarded her with curious dark blue eyes as he watched her reaction.

"Wow." Sure, she suspected something like this thanks to Loki…but to know that she had spent the last day with the one and only Hercules? On one hand it was quite neat but on the other she could _never_ think of that Disney cartoon the same _ever_ again. "So why are you here in Rome and not Olympus or something?"

The Immortal – or Heracles – shrugged. "I spent enough time fighting the various gods that I wasn't terribly eager to spend time with them," he snorted in amusement. "Besides, the Greeks and later the Romans began to worship me. That worship gave me power so I prefer to stick close to my base, as most gods do."

"So why all the mystery? Why not just call yourself Heracles?"

He grinned and rolled over, pinning her under his body. "Because my darling, intrigue and mystery creates a worship and power of its own. Plus," he laughed, "if people knew I was Heracles they'd attempt to send me on quests every damn day."

Lenore laughed. "Good point," she managed to say before Heracles was kissing her again.

Soon she was sitting in his lap with her legs circled around his waist when the door banged open. They looked over in surprise to see Heracles' manservant, Loki, and Aphrodite entering the room.

"Sir, I apologize sir! I could not stop him!" the nervous manservant explained.

"It's fine, Paulo. Loki, Aphrodite," he greeted in an irritated voice as Lenore pulled the covers over herself, relieved that she didn't think they saw much of her since Heracles' back was to the door and he covered her. "What in Hades' name are you doing here?"

"Looking for Lenore, we're leaving," Loki answered defiantly with crossed looked positively murderous as he glanced from Lenore to Heracles. Behind him Aphrodite was looking quite amused.

"Loki!" Lenore shouted as she wrapped the thin sheet around her ever tighter. "What the heck are you doing? I'm kind of, you know, busy," she hissed in irritation.

Her friend snapped her fingers and suddenly she was wearing her dress again. "Yeah, about that. Aphrodite used her magic to help push you into Herc's pants," he snarled with an angry look at Heracles.

"What?" Lenore shouted as she jumped away from the bed and looked at her recent lover in horror.

"What? Lenore I have no idea what's he talking about," Heracles, still nude, said as he jumped out of bed. "Unless…" he glared at his giggling sister. "By Poseidon's Trident! Aphrodite, tell me you didn't," he ordered her in a warning tone as recognition dawned in his features.

The blonde goddess shrugged innocently with a secretive smile. "O-kay," she sighed. "So maybe I had some fun. I just wanted to get Loki alone and figured you and the vampire would have fun."

Lenore's hands clenched into fists at her side as she stared at the goddess in dismay. "No…how could you?" she whispered. Memories of her mind being toyed with passed through her mind. She shot Heracles a dark look. "Did you know?" she demanded.

"No, no," he murmured as he tried to take her hand, but she jerked away. "I swear I didn't." He glared at his sister. "I forget how Aphrodite likes to play her damn games."

Loki was at her side with his arm around her back. "Come on, Lenore. Let's get out of here."

She walked with him towards the door as she curled within herself. She had been…_used_. Sexually used. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

Lenore looked back at Heracles and saw him staring at her with a forlorn expression. Biting her lip and blinking back tears she turned away. At the door Aphrodite gave her a stunning smile and winked. "Hey, at least he's a good lay, right?"

That feeling of victimization was thrown out the window at the goddess' smug smile. "You. Bitch." Lenore grabbed her by the throat and threw the Goddess of Love onto the marble floor twenty feet across the luxurious master bedroom. "How _dare_ you toy with my mind!" Lenore shouted as she leapt forward, grabbing Aphrodite's arm and cracking it as she flung the goddess into the wall.

"Just what gives you the right to use me? Or anyone?" Lenore yelled as she propelled towards the goddess and slammed her palm into her nose.

Her face bleeding, Aphrodite glared at her. "You filthy, stupid vampire. Don't you get it? I am a goddess – I can do whatever I want." Her fingers flew through the air like talons, effectively leaving five bleeding trails down the right side of Lenore's face. Her knee slid into Lenore's gut and her right hand shoved Lenore's head against the wall.

Grunting, Lenore kicked out with her left foot and executed several kung fu moves she learned from the Asian vampires of her clan – tiger, crane, and praying mantis. "Gods can die," she muttered as she avoided Aphrodite's kick. She hit the goddess with a wooden chair and then broke off the leg. "I think we all know what happens when you get staked."

Laughing, Aphrodite broke off a stake of her own. "Same thing with you, my dear."

"Enough!" Heracles boomed as he grabbed his sister and Loki grabbed Lenore. "I will not have this here. Aphrodite, apologize!"

"What? No!" she shouted in indignation. "This foul creature tried to kill me."

"After you violated her," Loki spat angrily as he struggled to hold Lenore back.

"Do it, sister. Or must I tell your husband Hephaestus that you've been unfaithful again? The god of metal crafts will be sure to fit you with some chains if he learns of this," Heracles threatened.

"Fine," Aphrodite snarled, all charm gone from her face now. "Vampire—"

"—_Lenore_," her brother corrected.

"_Lenore_, I am sorry," she growled.

Lenore regarded her with an angry stare. "Do anything like that to me again and I will kill you. Do you hear me?"

The goddess' eyes narrowed to slits but she finally nodded. "You can try," she smirked.

"Come on, Lenore. Let's get the hell out of here," Loki said and he snapped them back to her hotel room.

She sat, shaking, onto the couch and leaned over until her head touched her knees. "What is wrong with me, Loki? Why does everyone have to play mind games with me and take advantage of me?" she asked in a tired voice. "Willow. The angels. Connor. Aurelius. I'm so exhausted of people trying to use me."

"Hey, well after that fight I doubt anyone will try that again," Loki said in a light voice as he pulled her into his arms.

Lenore snorted and shook her head. "I don't know what came over me…I just snapped, you know?" She shook her head again. "I'm tired of being the victim. I'm tired of being lied to."

Loki stiffened slightly but then he settled against the couch and hugged her tighter. "It's okay to get angry, to fight. I know you like to pretend like you're normal but you _are_ a vampire. You're a predator, Lenore. You're bound to act like one sometimes."

"I don't want to be an animal. Hunting demons is one thing, but attacking someone I'm angry at? That's different."

He sighed. "You're not an animal. What Aphrodite did was wrong," he said in a hardened voice. "And Heracles, too."

Lenore shook her head. "Honestly, I really don't think he knew."

Loki snorted and rolled his eyes. "Guy's a dick, Lenore. He probably did."

Lenore shrugged. "Didn't seem like it…" she trailed off.

He held her up and shook her. "Lenore, don't be thinking sweet things about him. Before you were under the Goddess of Love's influence, okay? Everything from before was fake."

Lenore was silent; she felt like maybe it wasn't but there was no use arguing. Besides, maybe Loki was right. Maybe she just _wanted_ there to be something.

She just wanted love.

"I just want…"

"Yes?"

Lenore sighed. "I just want someone again. I'm so tired of being alone. Willow seems so far off. And I…"

"What is it?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Thinking about how Aphrodite toyed with my mind makes me think of Willow and everything that went wrong with our relationship…sometimes I can't help but wonder if we'll even be compatible anymore."

There. She said it. Said the little annoying thought that had been plaguing her for a while now. Lenore McLeod was not Tara Maclay. She was much more, with different life experiences. Not to mention, she was immortal. "What if we're really not meant to be?" Lenore whispered.

"Oh Lenore," Loki said sadly. "I really don't know what to tell you. Fate's a tricky thing. It's not some treasure map with your path clearly identified by a line and an 'X', it's a map with hundreds of different roads you can take."

Lenore was silent for a moment as she snuggled up to Loki. Finally she said, "Can't I just be a pirate and get a freaking treasure map?"

Loki laughed and she joined in – here with Loki, surrounded by their laughter, was the one place in her world where she always felt safe and happy.

A/N:

I'm working on way to many projects all at once and updating isn't as easy as I (and I'm sure you!) prefer. So that's why this chapter is a tad shorter instead of me cramming several scenes together in one chapter.

On some good news: I am 15k words into my Gabriel Big Bang story! It's a BTVS/SPN crossover with a Gabriel/Faith pairing. Here's the summary:  
**Summary for 'Finding Faith':**Prince of Fire, Messenger of God, Angel of Death: Gabriel has been all these things until one day his charge, Sineya, is violated in the cruelest of ways. Grief derived from this action and the hatred that divides his family ultimately drives him from Heaven. But he continues to observe the Daughters of Sineya – the Vampire Slayers – and upon the day Faith Lehane is Called the archangel is enthralled.  
(Ok, I don't like the summary but it's a work in progress.)


	23. Stupid Imagination

_December 31, 1849  
Fields of Damascus  
Rome, Italy  
_

"I don't understand it," Eli murmured to Lenore as his eyes were focused on an object strung up over the large field that played host to their clan's New Year Eve's party. "It is so…_shiny_," he murmured in awe.

Lenore grinned as nodded with pride. "Pretty neat, huh? I had Wolfram and Hart put it together."

"What is it?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"They call it a 'disco ball'," Lenore smiled cheekily. Goodness, if only she could bring back Willow and some of the Scoobies to witness how many immortals were captivated by the 1970s creation. Dawn especially would be amused.

Eli shot her a smile. "An excellent decision, my friend."

Chuckling under her breath, she linked her arm in his as they made their way through the burgeoning sea of a hundred-soon-to-be-two-hundred vampires. "I just want to make sure everyone has fun tonight. It's not like our lifestyle is exactly popular."

"Certainly not popular but it is a higher calling," Eli affirmed for her. "You have given all of us a great gift."

Blushing, Lenore shrugged. "I've only provided the tools to a greater existence. It was each of you that built your own houses of strength and grace."

Eli squeezed her hand. "I've missed you."

"And I you," she told her oldest (if you didn't count the hundred years she was separated from Loki) friend. "Tell me, how fares Damon? You mentioned that he might be able to take over for your group." Damon was a fledging vampire that Eli had found several years ago. However the former priest was a fervent believer of their cause and a promising new leader.

"He is doing well. I've been delegating more and more to him. I believe he will be ready soon," he said with a relieved smile, his eyes sparkling.

"Wonderful," Lenore grinned. "I cannot wait for you to return to us. As happy as I am our group has expanded so much that that smaller clans are required, I do miss you and some of the others that we started with."

"We're developing the young ones, increasing their strength to fight the Need and enhancing their leadership capabilities. It'll happen soon enough," he remarked confidently.

That's why she loved Eli. He had always been so supportive of her and their mission. That kind of support was necessary in a hard life like theirs.

"Tell me," he began. "Will Loki be arriving tonight? When I saw him at your place earlier he alluded to it."

Lenore pursed her lips and bit back a sigh. "Yeah, he is."

Eli chuckled softly. "And you are not pleased?"

"No," she said in a rather petulant tone. "He _hates_ being around vampires – you and I excluded, of course – but he demanded an invitation today."

"Why?" Eli asked in confusion.

Lenore let out a heavy sigh. "Long story."

"Ah yes, well then never mind then. I abhor long stories, especially since I am an immortal vampire who has nothing but time on his hands," he commented with dry humor.

She glared at him as he let out a hearty guffaw. So she told him the story of her at the Immortal's party and Aphrodite's mind games.

"That little tarty bitch," Eli stated with a protective ruthlessness that reminded her of Loki. "And the Immortal, I ought to kill him."

"I'm not finished," she sighed. "I really don't think he had a hand to play in any of this and since that day he's sent me various gifts – flowers, unique magical artifacts, scrolls thought to be lost in Alexandria—"

"—Just over these last six days?" Eli asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said with a small smile. "He's trying to apologize and is asking for a second chance to prove that our chemistry was more than his sister's magic."

"Hmmph."

"You sound like Loki."

"Loki's smart."

Lenore was quiet. Times like now she realized why she needed a close female friend – her two closest male friends were far too protective.

"Oh bloody hell Lenore," Eli whistled as he caught one of her fleeting expressions. "Don't tell me you're thinking of _forgiving_ this bastard?"

She toyed carelessly with the fabric of her green gown. "I'm not stupid, Eli. I know I jumped into bed with him because of Aphrodite's spell. But…I don't know," she shrugged. "When we weren't, ya know, I really enjoyed talking to him."

"Lenore, really?" Eli asked skeptically.

She made an annoyed face. "It's like Loki's given you his script."

Eli held his hands up in a surrender gesture. "Hey, I'm just saying that this Immortal guy doesn't sound very trustworthy, on account of being a known womanizer and having god-blood."

"I _know_," she huffed. Lenore knew she was being stupid. But she just couldn't help it. "Anyways, I invited him tonight, after his gift earlier today. I figure I'm not under a spell anymore and I want to see if I imagined something between us or not."

"Good thing Loki's coming then," Eli snorted. "Heracles can probably kill me easily but at least Loki can take him out if he tries anything."

"Oh _honestly_. No wonder Loki, out of all my friends, likes you so much."

Eli just smirked.

Loki arrived shortly after, right before Heracles interestingly enough. He had greeted Lenore with plenty of compliments and a big hug before setting his eyes on 'glare' once Heracles walked into his path.

"Good evening, Lenore," Heracles bowed. He was dressed with impeccable style in a black suit with his shoulder-length black hair tied back. His smile was tentative but his dark blue eyes radiated with warmth. "Thank you very much for the invitation."

Lenore smiled tentatively back. She was thrilled to realize that the mere sight of him didn't make her want to rip off her clothes like last time, thus proving the spell was over. However, she still felt a little bit attracted to him…but he was an attractive man so why wouldn't she? "Thank you for the gifts. They were unexpected but appreciated."

Heracles' eyes darkened with guilt and he slowly reached for her hand, which she allowed. "Lenore, please know that I would never go through with such a dishonorable scheme. That is not my way."

She looked into those eyes for a long time and even probed him with her magic. His aura was like a rainbow of colors – a brilliant red for his warrior side, a streak of white from his godliness, a spot of grey from his ways of moral ambiguity, a calming blue, and several other colors. No matter how deep she searched all she could find was sincerity.

It was incredibly relieving. Perhaps Aphrodite had used her but Heracles had not. He was no Connor nor Aurelius.

"I believe you," she said simply, taking some happiness from the joy and relief that shone in his own face.

"In that case…may I ask you to dance with me?"

"You may ask," she replied coyly with an amused smile.

Heracles chuckled and Lenore found herself enjoying the sound of that. With another gracious bow he asked in an official voice "Baroness Lenore, most striking woman my eyes have ever seen—"

Lenore didn't bother to hide her scoff of disbelief.

He gave her a stern look and continued with an impish smile. "With hair as dark as a moonless sky, skin as fair as the moon itself, shining stars for eyes, I wish I could have you to myself."

He smiled. She rolled her eyes but found herself smiling in amusement anyway. "Regardless of such flowery nonsense" – decades with Kali made her not as appreciative of it as other females – "I would be happy to dance with you."

Midnight was nearing and Lenore was standing stiffly near one end of the field as she prepared to speak in front of everyone. As their leader it was her obligation to perform the countdown to the new year but Lenore always got so nervous speaking in front of everyone. For some of the vampires – the ones recently admitted by the other smaller clans – this would be the first time they heard her speak. What if they hated her and then decided to quite and start drinking humans again?

Sure, that was an unlikely scenario…but one that always ran through her mind every time anyways.

"So how were your many dances with the Immortal Moron?" Loki commented irritably as he showed up next to her, startling her.

"Geez, Loki, give a girl some warning, could ya?" She paused. "And it was nice."

"Nice?" he asked skeptically. "Nice like dancing with Eli-nice or nice like Kali-nice?"

Lenore bristled at his casual mention of her former lover. They never brought her up so she couldn't understand why he just did. "Neither. Er, perhaps somewhere in the middle."

"Wait," he stated with an aghast look. "You really are…attracted to him? 'Cause I tested the area and there's no love spell anywhere."

"Well, yeah…he's funny. Quite charming, and smart too," she answered uncomfortably.

"But…you only like _women_!" he cried out in disbelief. "And he's, well he's a _man_!"

"Yes, Loki," she rolled her eyes. "Given previous experience I am well aware that he is a man."

"Lenore, you're joking, right? I mean, first Kali—"

_Ugh, stop saying her name!_

"—And then Maria and a dozen other random lady vampires. Since when do you like men?"

"Loki," she hissed as she jerked her head towards the crowd. "Vampire party, remember? Super hearing?"

"Sorry," he muttered in a quieter voice. "But still…since when?"

Geez, why did this matter so much to him? "I don't know," she answered in exasperation. "It's not like I've never been attracted to men." In fact, she distinctly remembered being quite attracted to Loki during his first visit – and perhaps a few times thereafter. "I just liked women more. Or, more so, I just met the right women and not the right man."

"So Heracles is the right man for you?" he asked in a deadened voice, like he was still shocked or something.

"I don't know," she shrugged in annoyance. "But yes, I am attracted to him. And yes, there was that Aphrodite ordeal but I know he wasn't aware of her spell."

Loki turned his back to face the outskirts of the field. "So out of all the men you've ever met, it wasn't until you met Heracles that you wanted to try for something new?"

Lenore was feeling really uncomfortable. The way Loki was speaking sounded almost like he was…jealous. But he couldn't be, could he? He was her best friend…

"Lenore!" Eli called urgently as he approached her with long strides. "Ten minutes left – aren't you going to start?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied in a dazed voice. She glanced over to Loki and tried to think of how to respond but it didn't matter.

He was gone.

_  
November 3, 1851  
Palmero, Sicily  
_

"_Signore_, I am pleading with you to understand. The old ways are changing and the only way we can survive as a species is to abstain from human blood. You think me a young fool but I assure you that I was a powerful prophetess before I was turned. A new order is being ushered into the world and soon the humans will have a greater capability to hunt us."

Salvatore Petrali, leader of the Palmero Mafia, regarded her with piercing dark eyes. The ancient vampire was at least a thousand years old and had recently decided to take create an organized crime group to keep the local humans in line. A twisted individual, Petrali was infamous for his cruelty to the humans he used as slaves and the various tortures he enjoyed inflicting on them and demons alike.

And it was unfortunate that Lenore was his current focus. After travelling through the Mediterranean she had made her way to Sicily to try to convert some new souls. Never before had she attempted a visit here for Petrali was widely known, but she had heard he was in Spain for business.

She had been a fool.

He gave his a wicked grin as he slid another knife coated with Dead Man's Blood into her stomach. A shiver ran through her and her body convulsed in pain. She gagged but fortunately was able to contain herself. Tied with thick chains to a metal table and powerless thanks to the poison, Lenore was Petrali's unwilling captive.

Petrali spoke in Italian but luckily it was a language she was fluent in. "A fool indeed, to think you could convert my men away from me. Now you will pay." A gleam shone in his eye. "But slowly, over many years I think."

She attempted to break free but her efforts were fruitless. "Go to hell," she hissed.

He responded by cutting out her appendix with tiny precise moments.

A scream was ripped from her throat. Tears blurred her eyesight. Lenore prayed more than she ever had in her entire life.

Time passed at tortoise speed. By her count she was missing three organs by now. She supposed she should consider herself lucky that vampires did not need any organs besides their heart and brain…unfortunately she wasn't feeling lucky at all right now.

Her heartbeat was slowing. Was it possible for a vampire to bleed to death? Or was her heart just slowing thanks to the affects of the Dead Man's Blood?

Then the fingers mercilessly probing her intestines were whipped away and she heard something heavy crash. Idly she wondered if he had come to rescue her. She had tried to call out to him with her mind earlier but didn't know if he had heard her or not.

Lenore tried to listen but she was so sleepy…

_  
November 5, 1851  
Rome, Italy  
_

Lenore had just blinked her eyes open when a melodious voice said, "You're awake."

Her answer was a nonsensical series of syllables.

"You don't have to talk. You're still weak and I imagine that the Dead Man's Blood is still affecting you."

"Mmmhmmyeeeah," she mumbled.

Heracles chuckled and kissed the top of her head as he lovingly caressed her cheek. "I summoned Apollo to heal you, luckily he owed me a favor after I set him up with Isis."

Lenore tried to nod her understanding but failed. She had met Apollo several times, although never his sister Artemis since she hunted all supernatural creatures. Apollo was a ladies man and had happily taken up his half-brother's place now that Heracles no longer saw other women. And while she had never met the Egyptian goddess, Lenore heard she was much sought-after.

"Saved…me," she whispered.

"Of course," he said in surprise. Then guilt entered his voice. "I tarried too long in Messina for my business meeting. By the time I found you…" Heracles turned away in shame. "I should have accompanied you."

"It…okay," she tried to assure him. "My…clan?"

A grim look came over him and she was suddenly so happy that Damon had not taken over for Eli yet. "All eleven members were dead by the time I found you. I am sorry. I can only give you the satisfaction of knowing that I killed Petrali viciously."

Lenore did not usually enjoy vicious killings – when she did hunt demons it was quick. However in this case she muttered, "Good."

"Now sleep, _bella_. You must gain your strength."

She nodded ever so slightly and then fell back into the welcoming arms of sleep.

_  
November 5, 1851  
Rome, Italy  
_

Lenore was brushing her hair at the vanity in their bedroom when she saw her friend appear behind her in the mirror. "Loki!" she exclaimed in surprise. She whirled around and gave him a smile. Since she had taken up with Heracles he didn't visit as often, which saddened her. A part of her had wondered just exactly _why_ in the beginning but when she had asked him he said it was because the "Immortal Moron" had killed his son and he was angry that she would even consider associating herself with him.

She had been surprised, perhaps even negatively so if she admitted it to herself, that it was not the reason she had thought. Of course, then she had gotten very irked at him for holding a grudge when she had heard a great deal of testimony that Jörmungandr really had been wicked enough to need to be put down. That had consequently led to them fighting and created a degree of tension between them.

"Yeah, Loki," he muttered in annoyance as he came forward. Instead of hugging her like she expected he carefully inspected the still-healing knife wounds along her forearms. "Apollo did a shitty job, he should have stitched you up better."

"He said the Dead Man's Blood prevented it from fully healing immediately. Apparently the scars will fade in several weeks." Her head cocked to the side. "How did you know?"

"Apollo told Isis who told Anubis who told Fenrir, the latter two'cause you know how all the canine godlings like to stick together," he rattled off as he began stroking her arm.

"Geez, didn't realize the gods gossiped so much."

Loki let out a harsh laugh. "You have no idea. It's like no one worships them, really, anymore so they have to spend their time somehow."

Her arm began to tingle and she looked down. The wounds were fading as he spoke. "Wow, you can do that?" After all, Apollo was the Greek god of Healing and Loki was just a trickster.

Or, well something like that. One of these days he was going to confess about his angelic heritage, she was sure of it.

"Oh course," he snorted. "Apollo ain't got nothing on me, baby." She shivered as he healed her other arm; the instant healing tickled.

"Okay, pull up your shirt."

She gave him a cynical look. "Not that I'm not appreciative, but—"

He rolled his eyes. "I heard about how Petrali was playing doctor with you, the sick bastard. Now, lemme see your stomach."

Reluctantly she pull up her shirt, feeling especially relieved that she had decided to dress casually in some of Heracles' old men's clothes. Loki sucked in a breath at the ghastly sight – Petrali had really done a number on her.

"If the Immortal Moron hadn't killed that bastard I would have tortured him until the end of time for this," he muttered as he got on his knees to better inspect her wounds.

Lenore fidgeted nervously, she hated feeling exposed on several different levels.

Loki's warm fingers splayed over her stomach as he went about caressing each scar. Each stroke sent a flash of warmth through her and her skin began to tingle under his touch. Slowly he slid his fingers over each of her wounds, leaving trails of fire in his wake. He bent his head closer to her stomach, his face a mask of emotion. The process seemed to take much longer than it had with her arms but Lenore found herself not being terribly bothered by it. A violent shiver ran through her as he set about healing her worst wound and she grabbed his hair in response as she released a noise of surprise. Loki stiffened but then continued with the process. When he was finished his hands lingered on her stomach as he gave her a look she couldn't interpret.

"How do you feel now?"

Feeling a bit off-kilter, she could only nod at first. "B-better." She realized her fingers were still intertwined in his hair and blushed as she carefully pulled them out. "Th-thank you."

Loki gave her a sly grin as he slowly stood to his feet. "You're welcome, milady. Perhaps a reward for my efforts?"

Lenore tried to quiet her thumping heart and chill the warmth that Loki had created within her. She had a sudden flashback to their time on the mountain top and wondered what would happen now that there wasn't a meteor to interrupt them.

She wet her lips nervously. As tempting as Loki may be, she knew better than to get involved with him. Hanging out with several members of the Greek pantheon this past year had given her a slew of stories about Loki's sexual escapades – besides Aphrodite there was Hecate, Persephone, and Athena. And those were just the Greek goddesses that she knew of!

Clearly he did not desire her in _that_ way. The natural flirt had a thing for goddesses.

Besides, he was her best friend. She couldn't lose that friendship. Not again.

Lenore leaned in quickly and gave Loki a light peck on the cheek. "Thank you kind sir," she smiled rather awkwardly.

He blinked and gave her a forced smile. "But of course."

A voice carried down the hall, Heracles calling her to dinner.

Loki lost his smile. "I still cannot believe you are with that moron."

Something – that something that had been awakened during the previous moment – made her decide to take a chance. "I understand you hate him because his killed Jörmungandr. But give me one other reason why I shouldn't be with him."

Seeming startled by her question, he shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "I just don't think he's good enough for you," he answered sourly, eyes avoiding her intent stare.

"And that's it?" she asked.

Loki shrugged again. "Yeah, he's a dirt bag, Lenore." Frowning as Heracles' called for her again, he let out an irritable sigh. "I better get going before the Immortal Moron comes in here."

"Okay," she said with an air of disappointment. "Visit more often, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied insincerely before he popped out of the room.

Lenore sighed and wondered just what her stupid mind was thinking. Clearly she was going mad if she was starting to consider that she had _feelings_ for Loki. Stupid imagination thinking that his healing had been all sexy-like.

She just needed to push those crazy thoughts out of her head. Luckily she had a very attractive, intelligent, and fun man (er, god) that she liked quite a bit already waiting for her.

A/N:  
Hmm…I am slightly afraid that some of you, Dearest Readers, may dislike aspects of this chapter…or maybe like certain parts, who knows.… :)

Thanks for reading!

*Mafia activity was most prevalent in the most prosperous areas of western Sicily, especially Palermo and it began developing in the 1860s. I like to think that Salvatore the vampire got his gang taken over after he was murdered and thus the Mafia was formed ;) (.org/wiki/Sicilian_Mafia)


	24. A Whole New World

_Alexandria, Egypt  
May 7, 1852  
_

Meetings with other vampire leaders had been altered in their approach since the debacle with Salvatore Petrali.

For years Lenore had been far too trusting – in both that she would be treated with respect and that she could always count on her magic in defense. But clearly that trust had been broken last November. With the loss of her smaller clan at Petrali's hands Lenore recruited the best and brightest of her entire two-hundred soul vampire clan to travel with her. These vampires were older, smarter, faster, and stronger. They were the ones who would not make great clan leaders but made excellent followers – and especially bodyguards. These seven vampires accompanied her to every meeting; several went inside with her and others patrolled the area.

Today was her first meeting with a vampire leader since Petrali and Lenore was feeling anxious while she waited. The vampire was called Bilquis and it was rumored that she was the Queen of Sheba herself. However, like many ancient vampires, legends cloaked her like thick fog and no one knew the truth of her past. All Lenore knew was that this vampire had requested to meet her here in Alexandria so she had come.

Four male Arab vampires, all dressed in warrior gear with swords at their sides, had shown Lenore and her two clan members – Jae and Theodore – to a modest hall and were waiting with her for Bilquis to show. The room was adorned with rich tapestries and Persian rugs sitting under colorful thick pillows.

A light breeze was the only announcement of Bilquis' arrival; the old vampire was certainly light of foot.

"Lady Lenore, leader of the Animal Drinkers, how fare you? I hope your travel here was uneventful." Bilquis spoke in the smooth voice of a woman who was experienced in diplomacy. Nodding in her direction, Bilquis then sat across from Lenore on a purple pillow embroidered with gold. Her nose and mouth were covered by a silk black cloth that was supported by gold thread tied at the back of her head; it flapped slightly as she spoke. Dark brown eyes were outlined with kohl and her black hair was piled on top of her head in an intricate design. Her dress was more modest than Lenore would have presumed; it was white with flowing sleeves and a tight bodice – nothing terribly fancy.

"Uneventful and pleasant," Lenore affirmed. "My clan and I thank you for your hospitality."

The corner of her eyes moved and Lenore knew the other vampire was smiling under her veil. "Yes, well it is the least I could do for the murderer of my childe."

Lenore's eyes sharpened and she felt her Jae and Theodore fall into battle stances. "Of whom do you speak, Bilquis?"

Her eyes glittered with amusement as she glanced at Lenore's clan members. "I speak of Salvatore, darling. I made him during my Mediterranean travels long ago. I heard it is because of you that my childe is dead, indirectly as it may be."

Lenore summoned the strength of her magic and let it leak into the room. "That bastard tortured me for an entire day. His death was well-deserved."

Bilquis' laughter tinkled like shattering glass. "Oh young one. Don't you realize that if I had wanted you dead it would have already happened? I have lived since the tenth century B.C. – before the birth of your precious Christ. Even your impressive swell of magic is no match for my abilities."

Still alert, Lenore lowered her defenses slightly. "I admit then I am puzzled, Bilquis. Why invite me here?"

Bilquis' dark eyes glanced towards her guards. "Leave us," she commanded. They did as she said and gave Lenore an expectant look. After a moment Lenore excused Jae and Theodore – if Bilquis tried anything it's not like any of them could stop her.

"I was asleep for many years – a common activity for us ancients. Once the invading Caliph Omar burned our precious library in 640 and the Muslims conquered this land I left. Upon my travels I found Salvatore." Her face turned thoughtful. "He was much different as a human. Softer, kinder." Bilquis turned her gaze to Lenore. "But the demon affects each of us in different ways, does it not?"

Lenore didn't like to think that a demon was affecting her at _all_, thank you very much, so she just shrugged.

"Anyways I went to sleep during the Dark Ages for I was bored and no longer amused by the creativity of humans. But you, yes _you_, awoke me when Salvatore was killed. I felt it in our connection and knew he had met the final death."

The dark eyes of Bilquis seemed to fade to black and the pressure in the hall heightened as Lenore felt the full weight of the almost 3,000 year old vampire's powers. Lenore used her own powers to wrap her body in a tight cocoon of protection.

Then the feeling faded and Bilquis smiled again under the silk cloth. "Fear not, Lenore of the Animal Drinkers. I am not upset by his death. I have heard a great deal of stories about my once-dear Salvatore – it seems during my slumber my old lover sank into a greater sense of madness than previously known."

"Oh," Lenore said in surprise. "Well, I am glad you are not upset," she said cautiously as she wondered why the ancient vampire had called her here.

"You are likely wondering why I asked you here, if not to kill you?" Again, the amusement in her tone was evident.

"Indeed."

Bilquis nodded. "Indeed. It is a good question. You see Lenore, I have lived through many different religions – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. I am even featured, from my human years, in your precious Old Testament."

Lenore nodded. She read the Bible every day in support of her ministry efforts to save the souls of her fellow vampires. The tale of the Queen of Sheba meeting King Soloman was well known.

"But you see, I am beyond religion – as are all vampires. It is not our place to contemplate God because God simply does not exist."

She felt herself bristling at Bilquis' words. "That is a matter of opinion, my dear Bilquis."

Bilquis laughed again, and this time the tinkling of her voice felt like sharp pinpricks on Lenore's soul. "As I said before, you are young. You are idealistic and full of energy but you are living in a dream. God does not exist nor does he deserve your adulation."

"I am afraid you are wrong," Lenore said with a hardened look. "I know he exists. My entire existence is due to the blessings and curses thrown into my life. I was a Prophetess of the Lord, once. I have even had a Guardian Angel. Therefore, I know God exists."

With a sigh, Bilquis unhooked her face mask and let the silk covering fall to her lap. "Lenore, trust me. I understand how you feel. As a human I thought I had been convinced of God's greatness through the efforts of King Soloman. But when I was brutally attacked and turned years later I learned the truth – there is no God." Lenore tried to interrupt but Bilquis shushed her. "Yes, I admit that the servants of God – the angels and prophets – do exist but they are nothing more than lost children trying to find their way."

"How can you say that?" Lenore asked in puzzlement. "They are _angels_!"

Bilquis snorted in derision. "Nasty little bastards, if you ask me. One named Zachariah almost killed me once, had I not had some Holy Oil handy."

Silently Lenore remembered her final – and traumatic – encounter with Castiel. "The actions of one or two does not mean God isn't real."

"Maybe he was once," Bilquis shrugged. "But all things die eventually. Trust me my dear, if he were alive he wouldn't let the wickedness in this world exist."

Lenore held her tongue. She was faithful…although she had to admit that Bilquis brought up some good points. Those were questions she had never been able to answer either.

Finally she spoke. "So did you invite me here to discuss theology?" she inquired.

Her full ruby lips set in a thin line. "No. I wanted to deliver a warning – cease with your recruitment efforts and disable your organization."

"Why?" Lenore cried out, completely aghast.

Bilquis' head cocked to the side. "For the very reasons I just explained. I have heard the stories of you, the Vampire Saint. You seek to transform the very nature of our race for belief in a God that doesn't exist. I cannot allow you to foolishly change our world order."

Lenore jerked in shock. "You must be kidding."

"Kidding?" She blinked several times. "What is kidding? I am not having young goats, my dear, but offering you a formal demand."

Scowling, Lenore shook her head. "No, Bilquis. I will not and can not do this. Why is it so wrong if some vampires choose to drink only animal blood? This does not change the world order."

"You think me a fool?" Bilquis asked in a clipped voice. "I know you have two hundred vampires within your clan. This the largest number of our kind in any one group. You are dangerous. Furthermore, you are spitting on our very ways with your actions."

"Spitting on your ways…? Because we don't want to _kill_ humans to survive?" Lenore asked in outrage.

"We were created as race of the future – a master race that exceeds the weak humans," Bilquis shouted as she pounded her fist on the floor.

"A master race? And what? One day we will put all the members of the 'weak' race in a gas chamber?" Lenore questioned in an incredulous tone.

Bilquis gave her a curious look and frowned. "No. The humans will be kept alive for food and will serve us." A slow smiled curved up her face and her eyes shone with the righteousness of a true believer.

"You're mad," Lenore whispered.

Standing to her feet, Bilquis sneered slightly. "And you are a fool. But a young fool. I will give you time to consider my request. If you do not follow it then you will dislike my tactics of persuasion."

There was something in her voice – something old and cold, molded by years of hard living – that sent a shiver down Lenore's spine. She knew right then and there that even all of her magic was no match for this creature.

"Good day, Lady Lenore," Bilquis nodded as she stalked out of the room.

Clasping her hands together so Jae and Theodore wouldn't see them shaking, Lenore got to her feet and went to find her clan members.

She had a lot of thinking to do.

Unfortunately a lot of thinking wasn't in the cards for her, she discovered later. With the stress of her meeting with Bilquis she had completely forgotten it was her birthday and that Loki would be arriving tonight like always.

He showed up hovering outside her hotel window with a goofy grin on his face. "Greetings, O' Fair Lenore."

Lenore let out a little shriek since she was only clothed in her undergarments and quickly shoved the curtains in front of the window. "Jeez Loki! Couldn't you, I don't know, wear a bell or something?" she questioned as she dress in one of her nicer dresses – a long, flowing turquoise that she had picked up at the market several days ago.

She could practically _hear_ him smirking. "But that would take all the fun out of peeping at you barely clothed!"

Blushing, Lenore quickly smoothed her hair and silently rebuked herself for always allowing Loki's flattery to mean something when it probably shouldn't. Finally ready, she yanked the curtains back open. "You are ridiculous, positively ridiculous."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I know." Then he grinned again. "Hey, are you ready for your birthday celebrations or what?"

Lenore gave him a stern look. "On a few conditions."

"Such as?"

"No tricking poor humans on my watch."

"Oh," Loki pouted.

"No transfiguring me into a tiger."

"But that was so funny! Those frog-eating Parisians literally peed their pants!" he countered.

"No popping me into outer space to check out the moon when you know that my puny vampire body can't take the denseness of space and zero gravity."

"Aw, come on. I totally popped you back home before you, ya know, 'popped' yourself."

Lenore folded her arms. "I almost died!"

Loki rolled his eyes. "But you didn't," he pointed out petulantly.

"And…" Lenore peered closely at him. "Why are you just floating outside my window? People will see you, you know."

"No they won't," he grinned. "I've got an anti-human radar charm on this thing."

"What thing?"

"Part of your birthday present!" he announced as he rose higher past the window…on top of a carpet…a _flying_ carpet!

"L-Loki…where did you…those things exist?"

"Of course not," he snorted. "But I can create anything." He smirked. "Played a trick on this English businessman in Cairo and pretended to be a genie. Egotistical bastard ended up asking for the largest penis in the world – neglecting to mention the largest _human_ penis."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he laughed. "Gave him an eight-foot long penis, as long as a blue whale!"

Her nose crinkled in disgust. "Loki, that's gross."

"But funny!" Seeing her frown he rolled his eyes. "Trust me, the dude diddled his little girls on the side. Definitely deserved it."

Lenore pursed her lips and shrugged. "I'll take your word for it," she replied half-heartedly.

"As you should in all things!" he cried out cheerfully with an impish smile. "Anyways, you ready for a magic carpet ride, baby?"

Smiling in spite of herself, she nodded as a thrill of anticipation ran through her. She hadn't seen Loki since he had healed her six months ago…hopefully if she remained brave tonight could be a very good birthday indeed.

They sat side by side, him on left and her on the right, as they flew through the dark desert night. Alexandria was truly a gorgeous city and Lenore found herself appreciating it even more from an aerial view. "So where are you taking me?" she asked him over the sound of the wind.

"I remember you mentioning you had never seen the ancient sites, so tonight is a tour of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid," he smiled as he leaned back on the palms of his hands. He was dressed in loose-fitting cotton trousers and a cream-colored tunic, much like many Egyptian men from the lower ranks of society.

"Really?" she asked in surprise as her lips curled in excitement. "You mean it?" she asked as she tugged lightly on his tunic like an kid on a sugar high.

Loki chuckled and grabbed her hand. "Whoa there sparky. Sheesh, if I had known you'd react like that I'd have done this years ago."

"Loki, these are the artifacts of Ancient Egypt – how can I not be excited?" she grinned. Of course, some of her happiness came from the warmth that was enveloping her hand now. "I've read so many books on these lands. In fact, when I was a kid – as Tara – I used to be obsessed with mummies and pharaohs and everything," she admitted.

"Really?" he asked with a raised brow. "I never would have picked you – in either life – as a knowledge nerd," he commented with a carefully schooled expression that still managed to reek of sarcasm.

Lenore smacked his stomach with her free hand but he grabbed that as well. "Just because some of us would rather enlighten ourselves than play mean tricks all day, doesn't make me a knowledge nerd," she refuted.

"Right. And a horse with stripes isn't a zebra," he countered dryly with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Laughing, Lenore leaned into him. "You're an awfully mean friend. Sometimes I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because your life would be utterly boring without me."

She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. It was, after all, true.

_  
Aberdeen, Scotland  
November 23, 1851  
_

Lenore's perception of Loki changed that day when he healed her after Petrali's attack. After he had left she had, after careful consideration, broken things off with Heracles and retreated to Eli's current residence in her native Scotland. Although Loki had healed her wounds physically, there were a slew of emotional ones that every victim of torture was bound to have – thus she needed to be surrounded by Eli and the other members of her vampire family.

As soon as she had walked into the abandoned barn that Eli's clan had been holed up in, he had carefully inspected her.

"You heard?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered in a heavy voice. "The others met the final death."

She had nodded. "It was quick, in comparison."

A hug. "I'm glad you are okay. Had Petrali killed you as well…well, I don't know how I could have survived. You are like my Maker, Lenore. I don't know if I could have continued living."

She had shaken him. "_Never_ talk like that, Eli. If I die you need to govern the clan. That is more important than me."

He nodded but not in an entirely convincing way. "I am surprised you did not continue your healing in Rome," he commented, effectively changing the subject.

Lenore carefully avoided eye contact. "We parted ways."

A snort of exasperation had her turning to him in alarm. "About damn time."

"Eli! Honestly."

"What did it?"

She had shrugged. "I liked Heracles quite a bit but…I do not know. After I was healed I spent the next couple weeks wondering about us…and I decided we were not right for each other."

"Not exactly breaking news."

"Oh sod off," she muttered. "I know you never liked him but he really is a nice man, er god. He just didn't strike that…fire, you know?"

Then a slow smile grew on Eli's face. "Ah, I get it now. Next couple weeks after being healed, huh?" he chuckled under his breath.

"Eli?" she asked in a warning tone. Lenore hated secrets.

"Loki was the one who kindly updated me – and told me he healed you. So," Eli grinned. "You finally wake up to realizing you're in love with Loki?"

"W-what? L-Loki?" she asked in astonishment, all the while as her stomach knotted up. "What are you talking about, Eli?"

"Lenore, it's been obvious to me ever since you introduced me to him back in '22."

"It…has?"

He shrugged. "When you had walked out of the house that night Maria had accused him of trying to steal you away and that was why they came to blows."

"…Oh." Lenore had sat down at that point.

"I know you were in love with that Kali woman, but I think that blinded you to being in love with Loki."

"Well…it's only because he's my best friend. And…he's a god." Or an angel, but that was a secret. "He prefers goddesses – apparently the really tarty ones if my sources are correct. And…I didn't really think I should be with a man – I had only ever known love with women before."

"But you enjoyed you, ah, relations with Heracles, yes?" Eli asked with a sly grin.

She mirrored his smirk. "Yes, I did indeed." Then she frowned. "But Kali. And Willow."

Eli rolled his eyes. "You've been sending letters to Kali ever since she left you but each one has been returned. Face it, Lenore, she's part of your past and is never coming back to you. Even your sources say that she is ruling her lands once again with her consort Shiva. And Willow? Sure, perhaps she is part of your future but that's still over a hundred years away. Are you just supposed to be a nun in the meantime?"

"But that's just it! If Willow is my future then someday we will be together…which means even if something happens between Loki and I it will eventually end…and maybe we won't be friends anymore," she finished sadly.

At that point her ever-logical friend had let out a heavy sigh. "Lenore, stop over thinking this stupidity and just let yourself be happy. He loves you too, even if he tries to pretend it's nothing."

Hope had flared. "Do you really think so?" She was so self-conscious when it came to his past relationships.

"I know so," he had answered confidently.

And now Lenore, on the night of her 180th birthday, was hoping her friend's analysis had been correct.

_  
Giza, Egypt  
May 7, 1852  
_

As they passed over Cairo, Lenore couldn't help but smile in anticipation. The chilly desert night had her leaning against Loki and his arm was around her; it was a pleasant feeling. There was only no moon tonight and the cloudless sky glittered like a field of diamonds; bright stars and several planets shone fiercely against the black sky. As they approached Giza the meager light reflected off of three towering pyramids and a smaller figure that Lenore knew had the be the Sphinx. Smaller objects were scattered over the ground and Lenore figured they were other parts of the necropolis.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Loki grinned.

"_That's_ an understatement," she murmured in amazement. Her keen vampire eyes were able to make out the scene before her regardless of the nighttime darkness but it wasn't quite as good as perhaps it would be during the day. "Shame it's so dark."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" he stated as he reached under his shirt to pull out a dimly glowing moonstone. "This should help."

Lenore hadn't seen the gift since she had given it to him. "You wear it?" she asked in surprise. Not seeing it, she really had no idea.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Of course! It's only my best gift ever – which is really saying something since Coyote once gave me a harem of twelve very feisty women," he waggled his brows.

Lenore rolled her eyes.

Laughing, Loki threw the moonstone up in the air. She almost shouted in shock but stopped herself when the pendent just hovered a hundred feet in the air. It began glowing brighter and brighter until it finally lit up the entire necropolis like a full moon would have.

"You've been experimenting," Lenore commented. She had never thought of this usage for her creation.

"Usually my experiments involve honey and naked bodies, but yeah, I toyed around with this one too," he smirked.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Lenore hid her mild feelings of dejection at his constant mention of other women. "You are too much. But nice trick."

His amber eyes glinted with mischief. "_That_, my dear, was no trick. But you know I'd love to show you some…"

"No."

"You sure? C'mon, there's this corrupt banker in Hungary who loves to drain his customers dry with high interest rates. I'd _love_ to show him what it was like to have a real vampire after him."

"Loki."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Be boring and just enjoy a mild evening at the ancient Giza necropolis."

Lenore smiled. "Speaking of…can we fly around it now?"

Loki returned her smile. "But of course!"

So they began weaving in and around the wind-worn structures. Lenore was able to see, up-close and personal, how the Sphinx's nose was broken off and how the Great Pyramid was no longer smooth on the sides but had begun to show its rougher structure past its casing. They ended their flying carpet adventures on the back of the Sphinx where Loki created a towering five-layer chocolate frosted cake decked out with two-hundred candles out of nowhere.

"L-Loki!" she laughed in surprise. "You're going to create an inferno with all those candles!"

"Well you need one for every year," he told her like she was slow. "Besides," he grinned, "two-hundred is a big year! You're no longer a baby immortal – now you're a toddler!"

She laughed some more before letting out a burst of air that blew each and every candle, all the while making a wish that she would stick by her plan for tonight.

Seconds later plates with giant slabs of cake and forks were in their hands. "So what'ja wish for?" Loki asked between chocolaty mouthfuls.

A secretive smile played on her lips. "If I tell you it may not come true."

"Or it could. Ya know, on account of my awesome powers and me making it come true," he pointed out with a stab of his fork.

Lenore took a small bite and relished the intense flavor of the rich cake. She rarely ate food but when she did Loki always made sure it was the best. "Thank you Loki. Tonight's been a pretty wonderful birthday."

"Oh yeah?" he smiled. "Good. I'd hate to see anyone, like maybe your boyfriend, try to out-do me. Lenore birthdays are my specialty."

Rolling her eyes at the subtle dig, she gave him a 'look'. "Listen gossip queen, I already know that you know everything that goes on. Surely you know that I left Heracles."

He grinned widely. "Oh, I know. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Brat."

Loki shrugged and gave her a sly smile. "Comes with the whole Trickster deal, baby."

Lenore kept trying to think of the perfect moment to tell him what had been on her mind the last six months but the words struggled to leave her lips.

"So, why'd you leave him? Unsatisfied?" he inquired with a smirk.

"If you must know," she drawled as her mind tried to formulate the right phrase. "It was just that he wasn't the one for me. Fun for a while but no one special."

"Oh yeah?" Was that just her wishing or were his eyes lighting up with interest?

"Yes. And I think…I think he didn't compare to the person I really have feelings for."

Loki shifted nervously in his seat and he suddenly broke eye contact. "Oh…yeah? Well, ah, that's good you left him then. Listen! I, um, almost forgot to give you your present."

She mentally kicked him for trying to change the subject. "Loki, tonight has been an excellent present in itself."

"Well, yeah, but I still needed to make up for the Christmas of '49 when you gave me the moonstone."

Curious, she peered closely at him. "Indeed?"

"Indeed," he grinned, his nervousness gone. He presented her with a small carved wooden chest that featured floral designs. Upon closer inspection she recognized the flower.

"A Forget-Me-Not?" she inquired as her fingers traced the patterns.

"Yeah, well, I thought it was appropriate," he answered sheepishly.

"Thank you, Loki," she murmured as her fingers moved over the smooth wood.

"Oh, hold on – you gotta open it first! The real present is inside!" he told her with childish excitement.

"Oh!" she laughed wildly. She opened the box and saw a finely made golden heart-shaped locket that was no bigger than her thumbnail. "Oh…so pretty," she breathed softly. Lenore carefully picked up the locked and was suddenly awash in this feeling of _warmth_ and _love_ and _happiness_ that stole her breath away. A shudder ran through her body as she clutched the locket to her heart.

"Lenore?" Loki asked in worry.

The feeling of love pulsed within her and Lenore felt her magic intensify. When she focused her powers and connected to the earth she could feel all living things, but now it came to her without concentration. The beetle in the sand, the little girl sleeping in a nearby house, the palm trees…then a fresh wave as her senses traveled through the Nile to witness crocodiles and fish…and then into the sea as she witnessed sharks searching for their prey…suddenly she heard a child cry out for help in Turkey and then heard a women praying before bed in Spain and then there were the galloping buffalo in America and polar bears in Canada and her senses traveled all the way to monkeys in the Amazon and sheep in New Zealand…

"Lenore!" Loki shook her, she felt something rip out of her hand, and then she gasped as the greater world faded away and she was back in Giza, under the light of the moonstone, with Loki staring at her in shock…and fear.

She realized she was panting and sucking in great mouthfuls of air – even though breathing was no longer required for her. Her entire body was shaking and Loki quickly summoned his polar bear furred cloak and wrapped it around her. But she shook it off just as quickly because even though she was shivering she felt feverish with warmth – a very uncommon feeling for a vampire.

"Lenore, my…are you okay?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes," she repeated in a stronger voice. "Good God, Loki, what _was_ that?"

Loki carefully laid the locket back in the small wooden chest and bit his lip. "What did you feel?"

"Everything!" she exclaimed with a brilliant smile. "It was like mediating on my magic but _so_ much more! Oh Loki, it felt wonderful," she explained as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.

Loki paled. "I've been working on this since that Christmas…I had no idea it would have that sort of affect…"

"What is it?" she inquired as she hastily brushed the tears away from her eyes.

He ran a hand awkwardly through his short hair. "I made it…with the smallest bit of my…myself."

That stilled her. "Like your powers?"

"Something like that," he shrugged. "It's highly uncommon…perhaps never even done…but I fused it with that locket so that way if you were ever in trouble again I'd be able to feel it. I figured it would make your magic more powerful as well to help you, in case some sicko like Petrali ever got a hold of you again."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," he said quickly. "It's too powerful…and dangerous. Your reaction wasn't what I predicted at all."

"No." Her hand covered his when he tried to take the wooden chest away. "I was just taken by surprise is all. I can learn to control it."

He stared into her eyes before sighing. "This might be a mistake."

"It won't be." She took the chest out of his hands and then brushed her fingertips over the locket. The sense of _life_ itself rushed through her again but this time she focused on not getting carried away by the currents of the locket's power. She picked it up and pulled the chain over her head so the locked fell in between her breasts. The warmth swirled within her again but this time she was ready. She was prepared for the explosion of power and she fought to control it…and she succeeded.

When she was calm she opened her eyes and smiled at Loki, who had his eyes closed. Lenore fingered the locket in her hand and he smiled dreamily. "Thank you Loki. This is the greatest gift I have ever received."

He blinked his eyes open almost sleepily. "I am glad."

A little niggling thought formed in her brain and she scooted closer to him and took his hand. Here, under the light of the moonstone and the warmth of the locket between her breasts, something clicked within her and she threw caution to the wind. Loki gave her a curious look as she stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Actually, I lied."

"Lied?" he asked with furrowed brows.

"It is the second best gift…the best is you," she murmured before she leaned forward and caught his lips with her own.

She pressed gently against him and his body froze. Lenore started to pull back, certain that she had overstepped their boundaries, when Loki suddenly kissed her back. He tasted like chocolate and smelled like clean mountain air. A cautious hand reached around her neck and then his fingers were tangled in her hair as she pressed her palms against his warm cheeks.

Anxious to decrease the amount of space between them, Lenore scooted closer to Loki and suddenly he pulled her into his lap and squeezed his arms tightly around her. She was happy, so happy, that he felt for her like she did for him. His lips became more demanding and she opened her mouth slowly and savored the taste of him. A tiny moan left her mouth as his lips traveled along her jawbone and over her earlobe.

"I love you, Loki," she whispered.

He paused in his kissing and slowly turned to meet her eyes. Loki swallowed heavily and suddenly they were both standing on their feet and he put five feet between them.

"Loki?" she asked with trepidation.

Looking at her with sad eyes, he shook his head. "I…I can't. It wouldn't be right," he told her stiffly.

"Wouldn't…wouldn't be right? Loki, you do whatever the hell you want to…why can't you do this?"

Loki pursed his lips and took in a deep breath as he looked away "If only you knew…" He shook his head forlornly. Then in the sky the moonstone's light flickered and disappeared…and so did Loki.

A/N: Loki has secrets, and not just the one Lenore knows about ;)

So I know people didn't really care for the last two chapters – which I agree are my least favorite. I strayed from my earlier outline and that wasn't very good of me. *smacks hand* Anyways, things are going to intensify over the next 150 years until Lenore takes a trip to Sunnydale. Loki, Bilquis, vampire wars, and so much more. I hope you continue to enjoy the ride.

The ride, by the way, will likely end at 30-33 chapters. I won't swear on my life, but that's what it's looking like.

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!

_References_  
*The title comes from the Aladdin song where Al takes Princess Jasmine on a magic carpet ride  
*In the Koran 'Bilquis' is the name of the Queen of Sheba, although she is not named that in the Torah or the Old Testament. She visited King Soloman and was so overwhelmed by the might of his God that she converted on the spot. She is a figure only spoken of in these texts and Ethiopian lore (even though it is more likely she was from Yemen, but scholars say either Yemen or Ethiopia) and is not, technically, a true historical figure.  
* Once the invading Caliph Omar burned our precious library in 640 and the Muslims conquered this land I left. - No one knows who or why the Library of Alexandria was destroyed but this is one theory.  
*One named Zachariah almost killed me once, had I not had some Holy Oil handy."-had to mention this bastard at least once ;)  
*"A master race? And what? One day we will put all the members of the 'weak' race in a gas chamber?" Lenore questioned in an incredulous tone.- A reference to Nazi Germany and the Holocaust


	25. Preparing for a War

_Upper Alaska near the Colville River,  
November 2, 1859  
_  
Although it was ten in the morning the white landscape of the arctic lay hidden in shadow. To some – especially the colonizing Russian humans – this placed seemed like a barren wasteland. Snow draped over the land and every tree; no green could be seen for miles. Yet the land was teeming with wildlife and lacked human development – it was a perfect hiding place for one-hundred and seventy 'vegetarian' vampires.

Of course, Lenore still used the (very expensive) services of Wolfram and Hart to send more exotic animals via inter-dimensional portals in order to make sure her clan did not wipe out the ecosystem. It was times like these that she was very grateful to Kali for forcing her to create investments.

Kali. How odd to think that they were so close – India was not _that_ far from Alaska…well, perhaps so but it didn't seem that far to Lenore.

She still missed her, still thought of her former lover, the only real relationship she had ever experienced in this life. Sometimes she wondered if Kali thought of her as well…or maybe she was so busy with Shiva that she forgot about her silly vampire love. Who would have a vampire when they could have a god?

Hmm. It was something that both Kali and Loki had in common now. Kali had Shiva and Loki had – well she wasn't sure but she assumed someone. After all, didn't he always have a goddess on his arm, according to the rumors and his stories?

Lenore hadn't seen him since he left her on her birthday. She had taken the magic carpet home and stewed about the experience for a week before her good sense prompted her to leave and prepare her clan against Bilquis' threat. Several times she had searched for him – even visited his home – but he never appeared. Lenore assumed that the locket she wore announced her presence and gave him time to escape, yet she refused to take it off. It was a part of him, of that sparkling white aura she had once witnessed, and she couldn't discard it so easily.

Even if he didn't want anything to do with her.

Ah, perhaps it was for the best. Seven years of reflection had made her realize that perhaps she and Loki were a bad match. Your lover should always be your best friend but your best friend shouldn't always be your lover.

Too bad she didn't quite believe that. In fact, Lenore remembered reading about this dilemma in a psychology text once – it was called cognitive dissonance; because she could not have Loki she reasoned that she didn't actually want him, even though she did.

…Sometimes Lenore hated how well-read she was. As soon as television was created she vowed to no longer spend her free time learning and instead she would just watch mindless sitcoms for hours on end. Perhaps she would even create some blood-filled bon bons to much on in her new couch potato lifestyle.

Lenore made her way through the blistering cold to the underground meeting hall. Although vampires could not freeze to death this weather was certainly testing that theory. The icy winds coming off the frozen Chukchi Sea sliced through her heavy fur parka and she felt like she was constantly shivering.

However, sacrifices had to be made, she supposed. Too many threats surrounded her clan and this was the safest place for them at the time being.

Approaching the small wooden community house, Lenore opened the door and smiled at the small clusters of vampires spending time inside. They, for the most part, smiled back and Lenore prayed that she could keep them happy here for at least another year. Spotting the trap door she leapt twenty feet underneath the house and into a narrow tunnel. Here, surrounded by torches and hidden from icy winds, the air was warmer. Their entire clan lived underground in these tunnels – needless to say they stretched extensively under the surface of the tundra.

Following the sound of a dozen vampires speaking, Lenore found the meeting hall and grinned wryly to herself as the room became silent at her entrance. "Good morning everyone," she greeted with a soft smile.

A chorus of voices sounded around her and everyone quickly got into their seats. Lenore sat at the circular table with Eli to her right side and Jae, her foremost bodyguard, to the left. Although Lenore knew she (probably) did not need a bodyguard while surrounded by her own kind, she had grown particularly close lately to the Korean female that had joined her clan back in the late 1700s. Like her, Jae knew the pain of heartbreak.

Ten others, seven females and three males, sat around the table. They were all leaders of the small clans that traveled the world and thus Council members of their greater clan. There was Maria, her former lover, who was staring at her in concern – the fiery gypsy was no fan of their current plan but she trusted in Lenore's leadership, despite their broken relationship. Damon, the vampire that Eli had trained, appeared serene. She knew he was steadfastly loyal to Eli and thus had been forced into several heated arguments with others who were, unfortunately, less faithful than he.

Kept warm by his thick beard was Abdul from Saudi Arabia who was a devout Muslim, even in death. His mate – for Lenore's species of vampire mated for life – was Mona, a petite Iranian women. Zuna, a former tribal leader from the depths of the Congo, sat with her back straight against the chair and she wore a troubled look. Both Mona and Zuna were old friends so as long as Abdul supported Lenore than those two would follow.

One vampire, Déshèng from China, looked cross as he fingered his long mustache and she knew he would likely be her foremost critic. Next to him was Alka and Lenore assumed, judging by the way she stole glances at Déshèng, that the Albanian woman would follow the lead of her Maker. Lenore and Déshèng clashed often and it was always troublesome how Alka followed his cues.

Esti, a Basque originally from the Bay of Biscay who survived the Spanish Inquisition only to be made vampire, wore an unreadable expression; the former priestess of her village was always thoughtful and seldom spoke at these meetings.

Kitra, a vampire who appeared to be only thirteen but claimed to have seen the crucifixion, sat as still as stone in her chair. She was the most ancient of all of Lenore's followers yet Kitra had taken no convincing to join their clan like other elders – the sight of Christ had left her a devout follower who only survived on the blood of murderers after she was turned, thus she was grateful for a new and more blessed path to follow.

Finally there was Patience, a former English prostitute whose attitude was in direct defiance of her name; their newest clan leader had a good heart but often bothered the others with her frequent demands.

"Let us begin with our weekly reports. Jae?"

Normally reserved, the expert warrior allowed herself a small smile. "Training is progressing well. Our encampment of one-hundred and seventy are split into twelve groups of roughly fourteen each." Then she frowned and bowed her head in Déshèng's direction. "Except for Déshèng's. My apologies."

The thin man's eye twitched but that was the only emotional displayed he allowed past his mask. "Apology accepted. Even I often forget how half of my clan was wiped out by that madman."

Lenore pursed her lips. Although they did not get along very well Déshèng was still her brother in God and, especially after the mass murder of her own clan members by Petrali's hands, she understood his pain.

Jae continued. "Most groups are proceeding well in their hand-to-hand and blade work. However, there are several individuals who require a good deal of work before they should face any of the demons."

"How are the skirmishes with the demons going?" Maria inquired.

"As well as one would think. Wolfram and Hart delivers several dozen each week for our practice. Two dozen vampires have been severely injured but none killed yet. The practices are a good display of skill to help us identify if we are ready for Bilquis' forces."

All of them nodded in grim agreement. These trainings would mean life or death to many of their clan members when that time arrived.

"Thank you Jae. Kitra? Please report on the ministry efforts."

Kitra frowned and any random bystander would have matched the expression to a young girl feeling upset about not getting to stay up late. Her short fingers tapped rhythmically on the table as she spoke. "Two years in the arctic is enough to drive even the mildest animal-drinking vampire mad. As overseer of spirituality in our clan, I have continued to train other members on Bible study—" Seeing Abdul and Mona's look she corrected herself. "—And the study of the Qur'an and the Torah. Meetings are still regularly occurring but there is a sense of dissension in the ranks. There is an increasing number who wish to leave the tundra and return back to the, quote, 'modern world'."

"How many?" Lenore asked in concern.

"Roughly ten who strongly feel this way. Some of them are starting to question our ways as well – they believe that it may be easier just to return to drinking humans if Bilquis wants to kill the more humane vampires."

Lenore squeezed her eyes shut. She had been afraid of this. "And what do you recommend we do with them?"

Maria interrupted her. "They are only straying from the true path because they are frustrated. But if we go now and confront Bilquis' army of vampires – including all the disgusting half-breeds she wooed to her service – then they will feel as though they are doing something and be pleased."

"Sure, they will be pleased to be doing something – but it'll be the last thing they do, Maria! You know that we're not ready to face that bitch Queen of Sheba," Damon disagreed fervently.

"We have strong fighters and several talented magic users, in addition to Lenore's great powers. We can take them!" Maria argued passionately.

For a moment Lenore reminisced on how she had once upon a time often enjoyed that passion of hers.

"I agree!" Déshèng opined as he jabbed his index finger into the air. "Not only have we had to deal with those heartless hunters and that _yáng gu__ǐ__zi_ Abraham Van Helsing, but now we have Bilquis threatening us! We must take a stand!"

Zuna's husky voice entered the discussion. "If we fight we die. The others are not ready. Why fight when we have the freedom of the land here and an arrangement with the natives, the Iñupiat? Only a fool hunter fights a lion with one good hand."

"And only a fool turns his back on a tiger!" Déshèng countered.

"Déshèng, you speak rashly. You may be older than me by a century but you have seen less battles than I. Bilquis controls the djinn and while they live off the blood of humans their mind poison can just as easily lead a vampire into a dream world, and thus madness," Abdul pointed out in a calm voice as Mona nodded her agreement.

Lenore winced at the thought. She had never met a djinn but she knew the demons from the Arab world could trap a person within their own mind with a mere touch. She had no desire to encounter these powerful creatures.

"So we just sit here and wait?" Déshèng asked in exasperation.

"No," Lenore's clear voice rang out. "We continue with our plan. We train. We prepare. Then we, baring Bilquis seeing reason, meet them in battle and do what is needed."

Silence descended upon the room as they soaked up her words.

"And if we fail?" Esti asked thoughtfully.

"Then our souls transcend to a better place," Lenore answered her, believing truly that she was correct…while fervently praying that she was leading her people as God meant it.

_  
Upper Alaska near the Colville River,  
March 15, 1860  
_

Lenore's sleep last night had been plagued with bad dreams. She still, as always, dreamt of the moment each of her offspring passed into the afterlife. In her mind she kept track of family tree with its now-multitude of branches. Her visions were bittersweet for while she loved to keep track of her human family she still felt sick at seeing their deaths. The dreams from last night were particularly gruesome.

Elizabeth, her middle child and the one who had inherited Lenore's seer abilities had given birth to four children, including Brigid in 1716. Brigid had born Eleanor in 1753 and that little girl had given birth to Jocelyn in 1753. Jocelyn was the mother of Rebecca, Rebecca was the mother of Elspeth (it pleased Lenore to know her cousin's name lived on), and Elspeth had given birth to Jessica in 1825 and Judith in 1826. Jessica in turn had three children and last night Lenore had dreamt of Judith and her husband Thomas and Jessica and her daughters Edith and Katherine being slowly tortured to death.

Every time she closed her eyes she heard the screams of the youngest daughter, Edith.

The perpetrators had been shadowy forms but Lenore knew they were vampires. Fresh blood had soaked across the pretty yellow dress Katherine had been wearing and as the male vampire viciously raped the ten-year old Edith he had laughed and licked her virgin blood once he broke her.

It was the vilest thing Lenore had ever witnessed. She had vomited the entire morning and still felt ill. Worst yet was she knew there was a third daughter of Jessica's that was left. Would the vampires come for her as well? Lenore didn't know. What she did know what that she wanted to stop it and rain her fury upon the two vampires.

But she could think more on that later. For now she was waiting to meet with the shaman of the local Iñupiat tribe who she had formed a relationship with. There was no way her hundred and seventy vampires could hide unnoticed so it had been imperative to start things off on the right foot. Lenore had brought the tribes people a variety of gifts, such as leopard and tiger fur, and in exchange they were the ones who instructed Lenore on how to construct underground tunnels and homes to stay safe from the cold.

Although it had helped that the shaman had taken a liking to her – he said he had sensed that she was a reincarnated soul. His people steadfastly believed that life was cyclical and honored those who entered the world more than once. In fact, newborns were named after recently deceased members of the tribe because it was believed that person's spirit lived on in them.

Sometimes Lenore wondered what they'd say if she told them that her soul had gone backwards in time instead of forward. The thought made her smile.

"Lenore, hello," Amaruq, the shaman, greeted her as he stepped into his private quarters where she had been waiting. "Do you have more to trade?" Trading was rather new to his tribe since they were so far separated from other tribes; they all enjoyed the concept greatly.

She smiled and embraced him. "Nauraj, Tulugaq, and Arnaq unpacked new furs and meat from my sled. I hope they will be beneficial to your village."

He smiled and the joy was evident in his glassy blue eyes – the old, bearded man had lost his sight many moons ago. "You blood drinkers will make my people lazy with all the help you give us."

Lenore laughed and shook her head. "We are obliged to fulfill our debt. Not many people would allow us on their land."

Amaruq shook his head. "My namesake, the great wolf spirit, told me your people mean us no harm, that they live off animals as we do. How could we deny our brothers and sisters of an existence when we are so similar?"

To this day Lenore still wasn't sure if a true spirit had appeared to Amaruq or if it had been Fenrir who had given the shaman his assurances. Regardless, she was thankful.

…Even if she did wish Fenrir could show up in front of her so she could figure out whatever happened to Loki.

"Our stay on this land will not exceed more than six months. Scouts have informed us that our enemy is marching across Arabia and intends to cross through Russia and over the Bering Sea to Point Hope, the tip of Alaska. We must leave before they enter this land."

Amaruq nodded in agreement. "We must not have the evil blood drinkers enter our land. My people are not strong enough to fight them off."

Lenore placed her hand on her agitated friend's elbow. "I will not allow that to happen. We will leave before their army arrives, friend."

He relaxed and let out a heavy sigh. As he did so Lenore heard the water in her lungs and she winced. Her friend – the first human that she could ever name as such – was aging and dying. Mortality was a bittersweet gift and she hated her superior senses for detecting his illness.

"You have great honor, Lenore. It has been a pleasure knowing you and learning from you."

Smiling, she tucked his salt and pepper hair behind his ears. Over the last couple years she had found herself teaching the old man – old, yet in reality, so young in her eyes – much of her worldly and magical knowledge. In exchange he taught her his language and the nature magic of his people. His tribe allowed her clan to drink the blood of their animals and in return her clan gifted them with the meat and furs of their meals. Their partnership was a beneficial and enjoyable one.

She squeezed his hand. "Indeed it has been a pleasure learning from you and knowing you, honorable one."

Lenore stayed with him for a while longer. She knew his illness was progressing and death would take him soon. The thought grieved her, especially after witnessing the violent deaths of her family last night.

_  
Upper Alaska near the Colville River,  
April 20, 1860  
_

Amaruq had passed on Good Friday and Lenore could have sworn she heard Fenrir's howl during the night. She had then attended the shaman's funeral rites before spending the rest of the weekend catering to her flock and celebrating Easter.

This Easter was especially significant because her clan would be leaving Alaska soon. A group of their carpenters had developed boats large enough to get them across the Bering Sea and from there they would march towards Bilquis. Everyone was ready for battle by this point. Although their numbers had dwindled down to one hundred and thirty due to many vampires leaving out of frustration, Lenore's spies informed her that Bilquis was also losing troops as well. Abraham Van Helsing, a descendent of Daniel Holtz's on his mother's side apparently, was leading a revolution of sorts across Europe. Hunters were brazenly searching for vampire nests and killing her kind in great numbers. Due to Bilquis' foolishness in rounding up so many vampires, she was drawing the attention of Hunters and thus losing a good deal of warriors.

Lenore and her Council members had contemplated just letting Van Helsing wipe Bilquis' forces out but figured the ancient vampire would eventually kill the humans before the interfered significantly. But no matter. Her pure vampire numbers were down to sixty and her half-breeds at fifty. The numbers of djinn were unknown but her spies suggested perhaps two dozen.

Numerically speaking, they were even. In regards to power they likely were not. The Council members were all older and stronger but the average clan member was only a hundred to three-hundred years old and weaker. Only Kitra came close to Bilquis in age but she admitted that she would be no match for the Queen of Sheba. Lenore had her magic and Loki's locket, but even she wasn't so sure if she could defeat the other vampire leader.

Unfortunately, that wasn't even the worst problem Lenore had.

No, her worst problem stemmed from a vision this afternoon where she saw what would become of Jessica's eldest daughter, the one who had survived the vampires.

A tear of frustration fell down her cheek as she pondered what to do. Lenore had begun experimenting with portal travel over the last ten years but she was not very good at it – more than once she had ended up in some woman's house named Mary when she meant Maryland or on top of Mt. St. Helen's in the future state of Washington instead of arriving in St. Helen's, England. So she needed a great deal of practice and honestly _should not_ experiment during this critical time for her people.

But the temptation was great. Lenore didn't want to see Jessica's final daughter die in a grisly way or, based on her vision, have something worse occur to her.

So Lenore mediated on this for several days and took counsel with Eli. Eventually they came to the decision that she would go check in on her descendent and Eli would prepare their clan in the meantime. With any luck she would create the right portal to England and make it back to Alaska within a day or so.

Of course, she really should know better by now than to ever think luck would pass her way.

A/N:  
Next chapter is chock full of fun! A new canon character from the show will be appearing, can you guess who? And no, for once Anyanka will not be sleeping with them ;) heehee.

Thanks for reading!

_References_  
* vegetarian' vampires- cheeky reference to the Twilight vampires ;)  
* cognitive dissonance – Learned this from a Bones ep: .org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance  
* The Iñupiat (plural) or Iñupiaq (singular) and Iñupiak (dual) (from iñuk 'person' - and -piaq 'real', i.e., 'real people') or Inupik are the people of Alaska's Northwest Arctic and North Slope boroughs and the Bering Straits region. Barrow, the northernmost city in the United States, is in the Inupiat region: .net/en/main_nav/education/culture_alaska/inupiaq/, .org/wiki/Inupiaq,  
.org/Issues02/Co07132002/CO_07132002_Nunavut_  
*Basque: .org/wiki/Basque_people  
*Names gotten here: .com  
* yáng guǐzi- Foreign devil", a slur for White people in China: .org/wiki/Mandarin_Chinese_profanity#Against_westerners  
* djinn—Featured in S5 and S6 of Supernatural  
* Abraham Van Helsing, a descendent of Daniel Holtz's- Indeed the idea of Holtz was based off of Van Helsing ;) Since Holtz lived during the 1700s and I wanted a vampire hunter a hundred years after that, I decided to use Dracula's Van Helsing and make him related to Holtz ;)  
* Hunters were brazenly searching for vampire nests and killing her kind in great numbers.-By Dean and Sam's time Hunters thought that vampires were almost extinct because legend says they were hunted out so fiercely. So here I am trying to connect my story with SPN canon :)


	26. Crisis Averted, Crisis Found

_London, Great Britain  
April 25, 1860  
_

Lenore stood outside a small shack of a house that still carried the scent of her brethren. No matter how many years went by she could always recognize the taste and smell of her kindred blood. It had begun when she drank from Fergus upon his death and now her psychic prowess influenced it. She didn't even need to enter the home to know that this was the place from her dreams, the place where Judith, Thomas, Jessica, Edith, and Katherine had been brutally murdered by two unknown vampire assailants.

However, the final daughter of Jessica was not here. Hmm. If she had died then Lenore would have dreamt it. So where would she be?

She knocked on the door of the house next door and gave a friendly smile to the elderly woman who opened it with gnarled hands. Her skin was almost as pale as Lenore's and her blood smelled diseased and old, luckily unattractive to her. After her extended time in Alaska she was even less used to humans and was hoping to avoid temptation as much as possible.

"Good evening ma'am. I am looking for a distant cousin of mine who lives next door. She is the sole survivor and my family wanted to take her in."

The woman's mouth puckered like she had tasted lemons. "Ah, tragedy, that," she murmured sadly. "So much blood."

She shook her head and Lenore couldn't help but notice how her loose skin flapped when she moved. In general Lenore did not spend much time around humans so she was certainly unused to seeing the elderly. Currently it brought back the very recent memory of Amaruq's passing. Mortals shined like shooting stars, flaming and hot, but they eventually burned up as time passed, embracing death in mere decades. This idea disturbed her and made the emotional aspect of her mind want to refrain from befriending any humans ever again. Seeing death was too painful.

Then again, in just 140 years she would be seeing her mortal lover and friends again. She would have to see them eventually die as well, even Willow.

Lenore bit the inside of her cheek to withhold a moan of anguish.

The woman's scratchy voice brought her back to reality. "Well if you're looking for the eldest girl, she went straight to the convent, St. Theresa's, after what happened to her family. Heard she'll be taking her vows soon."

Distracted, Lenore nodded. "Thank you," she whispered before she faded back into the night. It was not until she was long gone that she realized she forgot to ask the name of the eldest daughter – her vision had just given her images and words, but not names. Hopefully that would not prove to be an issue.

_

* * *

_

Staines, Great Britain  
April 25, 1860

St. Theresa's was a beautiful remnant of the Catholic Church's power in England. Although few Catholics could be found openly worshipping when she was a child, their numbers had grown exponentially due to the Potato Famine of Ireland; many of the Irish came to the other isles for work. However, they were still an oppressed, poor minority and Lenore suspected that was why the stone path leading to the church and convent was broken under her feet.

She took in a deep breath of the night air. Lenore could feel …something… upon her skin. A light flicker of magic that announced there was one here like her. Not a vampire, no, but one gifted with talents she held as a human.

Yes, her descendent was here. She knew it. Now she just needed to find her before that…ugh, _demon_…did, lest her vision she had a few nights ago come true.

Slinking through the shadows like a panther, Lenore explored the grounds and building quietly. The flicker of magic she felt was getting stronger and Lenore crept out into the back garden. There were two figures standing in the darkness amidst flowering roses. One was a man – the same demon from her vision! – and a female that she knew had to be her descendent.

"Get away from her!" she snarled at the man as she raced over there to stand protectively near her descendent. She knew in her vision that, unless she interrupted this talk, this man's eyes would glow red and her descendant's soul would be his, all for the small price of ending the lives of the vampires that attacked her family.

She was a saint, her girl, a saint in the making. However, she judged wickedness harshly and wanted more than anything for no more families to be taken at the hands of her vile attackers – even if it cost her soul.

The girl, all black hair and wide beautiful brown eyes, took a step back in fright and pulled her shawl tight against her. The man - _demon_ - took one look at Lenore's gritted teeth and fighting stance and…laughed?

Lenore stepped between her descendent and the demon. "I command you to leave here, demon!" she uttered in a low, threatening tone. "Stay away from this girl."

The demon chuckled softly and ran a hand through the short black hair of his meat suit, the human his spirit was possessing. "Bloody hell Len, if you just wanted a chat you could have made me some tea first."

Coldness pierced her heart and Lenore stared at the demon in terror. Her visions were imperfect – they never presented every detail – but this? This was too much.

"Fergus?" she whispered in horror.

His thin lips stretched into a wide grin. "It's Crowley now, luv. You know that. And if you don't mind, Ms. Monroe and I were just finishing a business arrangement."

Shocked that it was her brother standing before her, in a different body and a more sinister persona, Lenore quickly averted her eyes. "She is not for you, _Crowley_."

The smile slid from his face. "Len, just because we're related doesn't mean you get to interfere with my work." His tone was clipped and cold; it filled her with sorrow.

"Yes, madam, please let me finish this," her descendent spoke up in a sweet girlish voice. "I must do something to stop the wicked demons that are terrorizing my land. I cannot allow them to hurt anyone else."

Lenore pivoted and gave the girl an incredulous look. "You want to stop demons? _This_ one," she jerked her finger at Fergus, "is a demon. He wants your soul. Are you ready to give that up?"

"If it is what God commands," she stated piously. "I saw in a vision that I would be losing my soul, but something good would come of it."

Lenore rolled her eyes in exasperation. "God _never_ wants you to give up your soul. Honestly child, _I_ will kill these vampires of yours. Just promise me that you will not sign away your soul."

The girl nodded solemnly.

"Good, now get inside!" Lenore barked angrily. Honestly, what sort of vision would tell this girl she would lose her soul? And why would the fool listen to it?

When the girl left Lenore faced her incensed brother. "What in the bloody hell are you _doing_ Eleanor?" he hissed. No one used her full name, not even her mother. My, he was angry.

"I couldn't let you have her soul!" she shouted at him, her emotions churning like an upset sea. She has last seen him eleven years ago at Heracles' party and had wondered what his life was like now. But to catch him in the act of stealing a soul? It sickened her.

In a flash of insight she realized that her brother was one of the things she killed – both as Lenore and as Tara.

The vessels in his forehead popping, he grabbed her wrists. "Len, don't be bloody daft about this! This is my _livelihood_. I buy up souls and thus get to escape from hell every once in a while to walk the earth." Fergus' eyes gleamed. "And someday I will be my own man, the King of the Crossroads." Then he gave her an angry look. "But I can't bloody do that if you're interfering with my sales!"

She slapped him, and put every bit of vampiric strength into it. "She is my descendent, you heartless bastard. _Your_ descendent!"

Fergus gazed at her in surprise. "Yours?"

"Yes! I dreamt of her family's murder and then last week I dreamt of her selling her soul to a demon. All humans must die – I know I cannot prevent her death – but I could not allow yet _another_ family member to be lost to Hell!"

Fergus was silent for the longest time, mulling over her words. "You can't save me, Len. And you bloody well can't track all your descendents and save them as well."

Lenore let out a shaky breath before she turned to face the dark expanse of wooded area behind the church. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she heard the truth in Fergus' words. "Kali told me I could maybe save you someday – although she never told me how. But there's hope, Fergus."

She felt him embrace her from behind. He felt surprisingly warm and she leaned into his brotherly touch without a second thought; it was just natural to her, regardless of all that currently separated them. "Len, luv, there really isn't. And honestly?" he asked as he released her and turned her to face him. "I don't really want to be sending my soul off to heaven to rest. I _like_ being a demon," he grinned. "I get to do whatever I like and still get to live."

Fergus then rolled his eyes at her incredulous look and shrugged. "Sure, I had to experience bloody fucking awful torture for hell-sized centuries, but it was worth it."

Lenore shook her head in defeat. "Fine, be a demon. But don't have your fun at the expense of others," she said with crossed arms.

Fergus let out a barking laugh. "What? And become a do-gooder like you and your lot? Len, for one there's no way to break my bounds to hell, and two, I don't particularly want to. You're not understanding – I _like_ being naughty," he winked charmingly. "Men, women, whores galore. It's bloody wonderful!"

Sickened, Lenore turned away. "Just promise me to leave this girl alone."

"Why?" he shrugged. "I don't really care if we're related, nine generations down the road. "

Wincing, Lenore gave him a pleading stare. "For me then. Please."

Fergus' eyes roved over her tearful expression. "Fine," he snapped unhappily. "But don't expect any favors like this in the bloody future, you understand?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded solemnly.

"Fine then." He kissed her forehead; it was quick and harsh, both a display of love and anger. "You take care, Len, and have fun taking care of little Drusilla. Lass is certainly screwed up enough and could probably use whatever you can give her."

Lenore paused at his words. "What did you call her?"

"Drusilla. Drusilla Monroe," he clarified with a puzzled expression. "Didn't you know that?"

Feeling numb, Lenore just shook her head at first. "I only know the names of my descendents and their lives upon their death, once they've passed the _Maya_, the veil between life and death."

"Oh." Fergus shrugged carelessly, like he truly didn't give a damn either way. "Well, ta-ta, little sister." He teleported out of there, leaving Lenore all alone and wondering what to do.

After all, she had promised her descendent she would kill the two vampires who murdered her family.

However, Lenore remembered hearing about Drusilla from Spike and the others in Sunnydale. She rather doubted that many girls with that name had their families murdered, went to a convent, and then became a vampire. No…her descendent was obviously the lucky one – her vision of losing her soul only made it more likely.

Unfortunately, if Lenore killed Angel and Darla then Drusilla would never turn Spike and who knows what affect this could have on the world?

Ye god, she really hated knowing the future sometime.

_

* * *

_

Staines, Great Britain  
April 30, 1860

Lenore couldn't bear to leave Drusilla nor could she force herself to speak to the girl. Instead she observed her at the convent, carefully taking in her personality and actions. After witnessing her family's murders the girl certainly was off-kilter to say the least. But her soul was still pure and she prayed almost the entire day, every day, to God.

Finally, on the day before Drusilla was set to take her vows, Lenore joined her in prayer. The dark-eyed slip of a girl smiled when Lenore knelt in the pew next to her and took her head during prayer. Lenore felt psychic energy stretch across their linked arms and practically sizzle over her skin. The warmth of Drusilla's skin melted the coldness that always seemed to live in Lenore's chest; she broke out into a wide smile at the feeling.

After mass, still holding hands, Lenore directed her descendent underneath an old oak tree that lived near the church. They settled onto the shaded grass and Lenore smiled at the girl, although for the life of her couldn't think of what to say. All she knew was that she had to spend some time with Drusilla before she was turned – the girl reminded her so much of her daughter Elizabeth that Lenore had to get to know her. She knew she was weak for doing so, but by God, she sorely missed her children.

Luckily, it was Drusilla that spoke first.

"You're my grand-mummy," she stated simply as she leaned in and hugged Lenore around the neck. Lenore could smell the blood pumping steadily under the thin skin of her neck and had to force herself to control her fangs. The blood smelled sweet and she had been so engrossed in watching over Drusilla that she had neglected to feed since coming to Britain.

"Why, yes, I am," Lenore smiled back as they broke their embrace. "How do you know that, my dear?"

Drusilla giggled. "The moon told me before the stars hushed him. They didn't want me to know, said it wasn't right that I see the light."

"Oh." Lenore frowned. She wondered if her girl was already mad, thanks to the wickedness that Angel and Darla inflicted upon her. "Well, the moon was correct, darling. I am your ancestor." Even as she said it the phrase felt odd on her tongue – she had never truly imagined meeting one of her descendents so much later in her life.

Drusilla smiled happily and promptly laid her head down in Lenore's lap. She froze at first, unsure what to do, before she tentatively began stroking the girl's long midnight locks. Lenore could feel Drusilla's pulse beating steadily against her body and she had to stifle her reaction. Even when she did interact with humans, it was never intimate contact. It scared her, made her afraid she would lose control.

And yet…She relished the interaction nonetheless and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.

"When the demons came I was ever so afraid. But I dreamt of woman with hair as dark as a raven's feather who would send me off to fly away from the darkness and into the light." Drusilla found her hand and squeezed it. "Have you found them yet?" she asked with girlish innocence.

Lenore's eyes shut in horror. How could she lie to this girl, this sweet girl, when she knew she had to let those beasts have her? She knew what Drusilla would become, the death she would inflict. Could she truly let fate run its course?

She answered in a tightly controlled voice. "I'm working on it, pet. Don't fret."

_

* * *

_

Staines, Great Britain  
May 1, 1860

It was in the wee hours of the morning and Lenore was pacing restlessly in the gardens of the convent. She had been praying for hours upon hours, ever since she had left Drusilla, and she _still_ had no idea what to do. She had no guidance, no hint, no _clue_ as to what to do and it was driving her mad!

Lenore contemplating contacting Kali, perhaps by meditating on her mantra, but she waved it away. She knew what Kali would say – "All who live must die." Her former lover was matter-of-fact about such things and would tell her that Drusilla's death was for the greater good.

So then she thought of contacting Loki, but that thought ended as quickly as it began. He had been ignoring her for years so she would be a fool to seek his advice now, especially after he snubbed her after she told him _she loved him_ for crying out loud.

Once again, Lenore was alone. And time was running out. She had already been gone a week – more time than she had intended.

Toying with the yarn of the Fates was a perilous business; crossing and snipping the yarn before it was ordained could lead to disaster. She knew that every creature had a purpose in this world, even if she couldn't quite see it. Without Angelus, there would be no Angel and perhaps Buffy would die one dark night, alone, and who knows what apocalypse would occur without her defending the Hellmouth. The same went for Spike's destiny. True, he never had a soul like Angel but he did come to defend the Hellmouth vigorously and helped many times, especially against Glory.

Killing Angelus and Darla and preventing Drusilla's transformation could irrevocably change the world.

Sinking to the ground with her head in her hands, Lenore tried to calm herself. She could do this. She had lived for over two-hundred years. What was one human life?

The guilt of her question slammed into her like a truck. All she _did_ was try to save lives. It was what Willow would expect of her, what _all_ her friends would expect of her.

In fact…thinking of her friends made her think of Buffy. How often had Buffy laughed in the face of destiny? Over and over again Buffy had proved prophecy after prophecy wrong. It got Lenore thinking…maybe she should kill Angel and Darla. Yes, Drusilla would never become a vampire and Spike never would either, but hundreds of lives would be saved in the process. And yes, Angel and Spike had helped save the world with Buffy but now…now they had _her_. Lenore. _She_ was a vampire, strong and powerful. _She_ could help Sunnydale in the future. They didn't need Angel and Spike after all!

A burst of relief rushed through her as she jumped to her feet. Yes, she would kill Angel and Darla tonight and her darling Drusilla would be right as rain.

Then a flash of white caught her eye and Lenore noticed, near the fountain at the foot of the convent steps, Drusilla wandering aimlessly. She was garbed in a long white nightgown trimmed with lace and was looking around like she was lost.

Worried, Lenore shot over to her. "Drusilla, what are you doing out of bed?"

Drusilla gave her a puzzled look. "But grand mummy, you called for me to come."

Lenore shook her head. "No I did—" A burning flash of pain in her back had her suddenly gasping in pain. She fought to focus on her magic but another sharp blade, dripping with Dead Man's Blood, dove into Lenore's chest.

"Gosh, I just love reunions," she heard a familiar and sinister voice, before she blacked out into darkness.


	27. Making a Deal

**Making a Deal**

A/N: Warning: Some darkness and violence up ahead.

_

* * *

_

Staines, Great Britain  
May 1, 1860

Lenore awoke in a position that reminded her too much of being Petrali's captive in Sicily. Thick iron manacles were clasped around her wrists and ankles and attached to the corner wall of a small, dark cellar. Her body felt foreign to her; her lethargic limbs refused to listen to her mental commands and she said a quick prayer in her mind asking for strength.

"Rise and shine, Lenore!" a cruel male voice rang out. Lenore looked up and saw Angelus giving her a malicious grin as he held aloft a seven-inch blade covered with blood.

Worry twisted in her gut. Oh God. Did they have Drusilla? Was she already too late?

Without warning Angelus slashed the knife over her right cheek and she hissed as the Dead Man's Blood came in contact with her own.

"Ya know, I never did get to thank you for your hospitality back in France," Angelus smiled amicably as he passed the knife from one hand to the other in a casual manner.

"You're welcome," she answered sarcastically as she focused on not moaning in pain. When Dead Man's Blood came in contact with a vampire's blood it spread through them like black oil followed by a lit match that literally burned them from the inside, sapping all of their strength and leaving them in great pain.

But Lenore had to focus. Angelus had to die. Darla had to die. It must be done.

Angelus chuckled as he pulled up a chair across from her. "I am just so happy that I can repay your previous kindness. Of course, not just for you, but for your little descendant Drusilla as well."

The flames that burned within her flared at his words. She struggled to present a calm demeanor. "Who?"

Letting out a roar of laughter, Angelus called for his mate. "Oh Darla, darling. Please bring in little Dru."

Darla, decked in a white dress that was already speckled with human blood, dragged Darla down the cellar steps and threw her at Lenore's feet. Her face was already twisted in her demon visage and Lenore noticed two fang-sized holes in Drusilla's neck. Shivering and panting, Drusilla saw Lenore and flung herself at her ancestor. Lenore rocked back at her weight and winced as the smell of flesh blood reached her nostrils. Her body, already hungry and in need of healing, reacted immediately by extending rows of fangs.

"Grand mummy, help me. They want to make me a demon!" Drusilla wailed, her voice cracked already, as if she had been screaming the entire time Lenore had been unconscious.

Lenore let out a grunt as she twisted her face away from Drusilla. _No_. She could not and _would not_ feed on family. Again.

"Oh my god, look at her," Darla laughed scornfully. "I throw her a bone and she backs away like a virgin at an orgy."

Angelus wrapped his arm around his mate's. "It is certainly bloody pathetic."

"Mmm," Darla licked her lips salaciously. "You just said my favorite word."

"Bloody?" Angelus asked with a quirk of his lips.

Darla grinned and quickly ripped Drusilla away from Lenore. "Shouldn't let this all go to waste," she said as her fangs bit into the girl's wrist.

"Stop!" Lenore begged. "Leave her be."

"Why? Because she's your family?" Angelus scoffed in amusement.

Drusilla had already said it so it was no longer a secret, Lenore supposed. Yet…there was something about the way he said it. Like he had known…

"Yes," she snapped vehemently as Darla gave her a doe-eyed look while drinking slowly from Drusilla. "Release her, _now_."

Laughing again, Angelus bent down and used the knife to slice through the front of her dress, cutting through her skin in the process. This time a moan did escape her throat and she hated the satisfaction she saw in the bastard's eyes.

If only Buffy could have seen what this creature was like before his curse. He was a beast, truly.

Angelus' eyes lit up as he tore back the upper half of her dress, leaving her only in a lacy white camisole. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" She froze at his curious tone and then jerked back as he tried to finger the golden heart-shaped locket that hung around her neck.

"Don't you dare!" she rasped as he tried to grab the only thing she had left of Loki's.

He gave her an exasperated look, like 'do you really expect me to listen to _you?_', and grabbed it anyway. However, as soon as he touched it his skin began smoking like he had been struck with holy water.

"_What_ is that?" he snarled angrily as his demon visage took over his face. Darla had dropped Drusilla and was staring at her lover in concern.

"Powerful magic," Lenore answered truthfully – even if she really had no idea how to access that magic at the moment. It was hard enough just for her to stay conscious at this point so she couldn't really see herself accessing the locket's power.

"Stupid fucking witch," Angelus spat. Then his eyes gleamed in triumph. "Drusilla, take the locket off your grand mummy."

Drusilla, appearing dazed, glanced between Angelus and Lenore. "Do it!" Angelus barked.

"Don't," Lenore whispered as Drusilla approached her.

"Do it or I'll kill her!" Angelus shouted as Darla giggled gleefully, enjoying this manipulative show.

Gently, Drusilla unfastened the locket from Lenore's neck. "I don't want you to die, grand mummy," she said with giant rolling tears falling down her cheeks.

Angelus yanked Drusilla's hand and forced her to toss the locket onto the floor. "Oh, she didn't tell you? Your grand mummy _is_ dead. In fact, she's just like us," he informed her viciously.

Drusilla's expression was one of betrayal and pain. "No! You lie!"

"Do I?" Angelus rubbed his fingers over Drusilla's bleeding wounds and then smeared the blood over Lenore's lips in one sudden movement.

_Oh God_. The blood. The _Need_. Oh God it was back and it was so strong, her own special siren song. It smelled sweet and thick and she knew it would taste so delicious…

Drusilla's scream of horror when Lenore's fangs sprung out again brought her back to her senses. With deep resolve, she bent her head down and rubbed her lips over her shoulder in an attempt to rid herself of all the blood.

"I thought you were going to save me!" Drusilla sobbed.

Guilt rocked through her and Lenore looked away shamefully. "I will," she promised.

"No. You won't," Angelus grinned – right before he proceeded to drain Drusilla and then force his blood down her throat.

Lenore struggled against her chains. She screamed. She cursed. She fought to find the strength to do magic – to do _anything_.

But she couldn't. Because Fate was, apparently, a bitch.

Laughing ruthlessly, Darla threw Drusilla's corpse over her shoulder and headed out of the cellar while Angelus stayed behind a moment to gloat.

"Really thought you could have saved her, didn't you?" He saw her eyes harden and he shook his head. "Aw, how sweet. You really thought you were special, didn't you? That you were a superior breed of vampire, strong, friend to pagan gods, and a powerful witch. But at the end of the day, you're nothing."

_"You're nothing."_ Those words from a memory long ago echoed in her mind. She heard her father's voice – Mr. Maclay's voice – reverberate through their house.

_"When are you gonna get it through yer head, girl? You ain't special. In fact, Tara, you're nothing. And don't forget it."_

_Nothing_. She was _nothing_. She couldn't save Drusilla. She couldn't have the person she loved – none of them, actually; Kali, Loki, Willow.

_Nothing_.

Tears sparkling in her eyes, she spoke in a measured tone to Angelus as he lorded over her. "I take it this is the part where you kill me?"

"Kill you?" he burst out laughing. "Trust me 'lil darlin', I would love to. Problem is, Bilquis would be mightily angry if I did that."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Bilquis?" she whispered in horror.

Angelus knelt, pinched her cheek, and winked at her. "Aw, aren't you cute? You really thought Drusilla was the end game, huh? I mean," he snorted and shrugged his broad shoulders, "don't get me wrong. She's a great consolation prize and loads of fun. In fact, we was just gonna kill her, but thought turning her would be the cruelest thing to do to you."

She was panting now. Lenore didn't need to breathe but that didn't stop her from sucking in great mouthfuls of air. "Why?"

"Why?" Angelus laughed. "To keep you busy, of course. I've been wanting a chance at you for years and when Bilquis gave me your family's information so I could track them down and torture them 'till you finally came runnin' home, why, how could I turn down such a glorious opportunity?"

His words cut into her very soul. She had known there would be a risk leaving Alaska but she couldn't let yet another member of her family suffer the evils that Fergus had been dealt. But now…now her mistake would cost the lives of her _other_ family.

"Where is she?" Lenore asked angrily.

Angelus pretended to look at his watch. "Hmm…probably ankle deep in the blood of all your damn vegetarian vampires," he smirked.

Angelus had left over an hour ago and _still_ Lenore was weak from the Dead Man's Blood. That's it. First Petralli and now Angelus. No _way_ would she ever be stupid enough to get caught like this again!

But she had a beacon of hope – the locket. She knew if she could reach it she would be alright. The problem was, she was still chained to the wall and Loki's locket was a good fifteen feet away.

Lenore sighed. Guilt, shame, and terror were coursing through her body and she felt ill from the sheer magnitude of it all. However, regardless of her moment of self-doubt she knew she _had_ to succeed in getting out of here and creating a portal back to Alaska so she could warn her clan.

Or save them if she was already there.

God she hoped that Bilquis was not there. After all, was it even possible for the vampire to cover so much ground in only a week?

Possibly.

Probably, if she had been planning this ahead of time.

Dammit.

She felt her mind becoming less of a muddled mess even though her body was still weak, so Lenore decided to use her magic. She focused every entity of her being on levitating the locket to her. One minute passed, then five, then fifteen, but eventually it scraped across the cold stone floor and into her hand. A sob of surprised joy tumbled out of her and she refastened the locket around her neck.

_"What is it?" she inquired as she hastily brushed the tears away from her eyes._

He ran a hand awkwardly through his short hair. "I made it…with the smallest bit of my…myself."

That stilled her. "Like your powers?"

"Something like that," he shrugged. "It's highly uncommon…perhaps never even done…but I fused it with that locket so that way if you were ever in trouble again I'd be able to feel it. I figured it would make your magic more powerful as well to help you, in case some sicko like Petrali ever got a hold of you again."

Lenore pressed her lips together in determination. She had her pride but her clan was more important. If this locket could connect her to Loki and get him to help her, then so be it.

Holding the locket against her chest, she let herself fall into the warmth that it held. Closing her eyes she saw a pure streak of white light gleaming in the blackness of space. She mentally followed the plane as quickly as a comet streaks through the sky, all the while mentally chanting Loki's name. The path directed her to Loki's home in the mountains and, even though she was upset with him, she smiled wistfully at the sight. The light continued to guide her through the living room, down the hallway, and into Loki's bedroom.

…Where he was occupied. With a woman.  
She had promised herself long ago that she wouldn't cry anymore over Loki and she didn't, but the burst of pain in her heart took her breath away.

"Loki!" she cried mentally through the locket's connection.

He didn't answer her, so she shouted again – and cursing at him to look at her at the same time.

Eventually he did, and he stared at her in surprise. "Lenore?" he whispered. His eyes looked almost glassy and he squinted, as if he couldn't quite see her.

"Shush, darling," a throaty feminine voice silenced him as she grasped the back of his head and redirected Loki to his previous activity. "That was just the wind."

Lenore screamed again for him to help her but the woman just smirked at Lenore and clapped her hands.

And suddenly Lenore was back, fully awake, and completely alone in the cellar.

So help her, she would _kill_ Aphrodite someday.

* * *

The locket was helping. Its power was still just as great, even if it couldn't get her Loki. But she was focusing on its magic and her own magic, and her body was regaining its strength. By the time she was able to walk, although she was still greatly wounded thanks to Angelus' sadistic prowess with a blade, she was limping out of the cellar and into the bright sunlight of day. Her eyes scanned her surroundings and she realized that she had no idea where she was. Grunting in frustration, she summoned more energy to do a locator spell and was quickly on her way – tattered dress and all – back to her inn. All of her supplies were there for the portal ritual.

Grimacing, she tried to keep to the shadows and alleys of the small village of Staines – she knew her current prostitute look wouldn't win her any friends. She still attracted some attention but then she figured, what the hell? Her friends were probably dying right now, her descendants had been murdered and vamped because of her, and did it all even matter anymore?

She opened her room door with more force then she meant and winced at the loud noise. Hopefully no one came to check in on her. Between her temper and raging bloodlust at the moment she didn't know if she'd be able to control herself.

Yes, her lack of eating well here in England, her torture, the momentary temptation of Drusilla's blood, and her rage at Bilquis was churning within her, forming a volcano of destruction just waiting to happen. Never before had Lenore felt like this – so _violent_, so _angry_ - not even when hunting with Kali

She wanted to rip apart Bilquis with her bare hands.

But before she stepped into the room she realized that someone was waiting for her, laying on the bed. Her hands curled into fists and she hoped this was another of Bilquis' lackeys. Her bloodlust demanded to be sated – if human blood was not allowed then the lives of demons would suffice.

"Temper, temper," he chided as he sat up and winked. "Don't want to be breakin' the doors of this precious little inn, now do you?"

"Fergus," she growled as she went to the wardrobe where her goods were stashed. "This isn't a good time.

He rolled his eyes. "Well I bloody could figure that out, on account of you looking like some London whore who just met Jack the Ripper."

"Shut up!" Lenore suddenly shouted at Fergus, desperately needing some outlet for anger. She had just noticed her wardrobe was bare – likely the work of Angelus and Darla. "Right now my clan, my _family_, is getting murdered! All because I was _stupid_ enough to follow some _stupid_ vision of a crossroads demon trying to steal my descendant – you! And now I'm bloody _stuck_ here because all my supplies have been stolen!"

Fergus barely reacted to her rant, choosing only to raise a single brow. "Why, this reminds me of your tantrums from when you were a toddler." He frowned then, like it pained him somehow to remember his human years. "Anyways, luv, you're in luck." He held his arms open like an actor awaiting applause. "Cavalry's here!"

Lenore snorted and folded her arms. "Thought you wouldn't be doing me anymore favors, Ferg?"

He bristled at the use of his disliked human nickname. "Not unless it serves my own needs, of course," he smiled charmingly.

Lenore pursed her lips. Time was running short but she didn't know if she could trust her brother anymore. Thus far he hadn't given her much reason to. "And just what are your own needs?"

"Well I love chaos, darling. And your little do-gooder crew have created quite a stir in the underworld, which of course is always entertaining. But mostly," he leaned forward and Lenore held her breath, wondering if he would display that he still really loved her and that a speck of humanity existed within him. "But mostly Van Helsing's team is in hot pursuit, but the Queen of Sheba is quicker and already at your camp. See, I want Van Helsing's little whore, the slayer, dead. But with Bilquis already at your camp Van Helsing's team won't have an opportunity to fight them."

Her forehead crinkled as she mulled over his rather confusing words. "And why do you want the slayer dead?" she asked with mild concern – because even though she hated the thought of a girl dying, a _slayer_ of all people, she knew she needed to get to Alaska fast and cut the chit-chat.

He shrugged. "Does it matter?" Fergus asked. "Anyways, I can transport you to Alaska with me, demon powers and all, and even give you a fighting chance."

"Anything," she said quickly.

Was it just her or did a small smile flash across his face? She shook off the feeling of dread and mentally prepared herself. "I can make sure that all those vampires get killed." He frowned. "Well, Bilquis may be tricky—"

"—That's fine. I want to kill her with my own bare hands."

Fergus did smile then, a brilliantly sadistic smile. "Excellent. Anyways, the only problem is such a display of power _would_ need a little something to kick-start the magic."

"What?" she asked warily.

He chuckled. "Certainly not your soul, silly," he chuckled. "My oh my, the look on your face."

"Spit it out!" she snapped in frustration.

"I overheard Angelus and his whore this morning—"

Her pupils nearly went black from the rush of adrenaline that coursed at that name. "Where? I will kill them myself!" she swore.

"Oooh, my little kitten grew into her tiger claws," Fergus smiled mischievously.

"Fergus!"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, they're in some bloody stupid barn. But do you want them or the big fishy?"

"Big fishy," she replied. She would get Angelus and Darla later.

"Anways, as I was saying, I overheard Angelus talk about some powerful locket you have. That just may be what I need to kick-start the magic of ass kicking."

Lenore froze. "No, something else."

"Lenore," Fergus sighed. He waved his hand and the air shimmered until a snowy landscape appeared. It was distorted, like watching a badly tuned television channel, but Lenore saw hundreds of figures fighting – and many of them dying.

"Oh God," she gasped.

"Indeed, this is what your precious God allows," he snorted. "Anyways, you're running out of time luv. Now, I want to help you, I really do, but I don't have the power to do it on my own.

Lenore hesitated and fingered the locket lovingly. This was a precious gift to her. After all, Loki had forged it from his own spirit. It was powerful and held a deep amount of love and beauty inside. She couldn't part with it…could she?

Then she remembered flesh slick with sweat and moans and her heart broke again. Loki had tossed her aside – why shouldn't she do the same with his gift? If it could save her clan…

"Fine."

"Excellent," Fergus smiled secretively as he took the locket from her. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss. His touch burned her and she felt something powerful transpire – the deal was sealed.

_

* * *

_

Upper Alaska near the Colville River,  
May 1, 1860

Fergus and Lenore popped into existence onto a watchtower that her clan had built when they first settled here. Below them, half a mile away, a bloody and fierce battle raged on. Here in the western hemisphere it was already night and swords and daggers gleamed under the moonlight. Her clan members were fighting bravely but she could tell that they were outmatched against the hordes of vampires like them, djinn, and the half-breed vampires. Bodies littered the floor and her keen eyesight already identified several of them.

Her bloodlust ignited again like lightning on dry leaves.

She would have bolted had she not felt Fergus' hand on her shoulder. "One moment, little sister. Back-up is just about here."

"Who?" She was still confused by how her brother was going to help her.

He smirked and playfully ruffled her hair. "Why, demons silly. Who else?"

The atmosphere became charged and the scent of sulfur tinged the air. Looking down she saw fifty bodies, mostly men but some women, appear. "Who…?"

"Van Helsing's army. My comrades down south were able hop on up thanks to your deal."

"WHAT?"

Fergus chuckled. "Now that they're possessed this 'lil army can pop into wherever they like and they're more than strong enough to take on Bilquis' army."

"FERGUS!" she cried out in horror, realizing what she condemned these poor humans to endure.

He grinned merrily at her outburst but then his expression sobered. "Don't get killed, Len. I would be most…disappointed if you did."

Then he disappeared, leaving her even angrier than she had been minutes ago.

But no matter. She would deal with him and the demons later. Right now her clan was all she worried about.

Leaping down from the watch tower she sprinted lightly over the snow, snatching a sword away from one of Bilquis' men and beheading him in one swift movement. Satisfaction flooded her at the sight of his head flying through the air and the coolness of his blood hitting her. She continued running towards the center of the battle, decapitating and slicing where she could. But occasionally she would see a familiar face dead in the snow and it would make her stumble.

Patience, their newest Council member, with her mouth agape in a silent shriek.

Alice, the eternal fifteen-year old who had been with Lenore since 1819, her eyes closed in silent defeat.

Alka, the Albanian council woman dead at the feet of her secret love Déshèng, who was now brutally fighting three vampires in revenge.

And more, and more.

Lenore emerged into a clearing of bright red snow, dyed from the gallons of blood spilt this night. She saw Bilquis dancing with a sword in hand and laughing as three vampires attacked her. Eli was bravely fighting her, as she expected, and so was Kitra, the most ancient of them all, and Jae, her personal bodyguard.

Rage swelled within her as Bilquis' blade tore through Eli's shoulder, almost severing his right arm. "BILQUIS!" Her voice erupted from her throat on a wave of pure fury and all heads turned to her.

Bilquis blinked in surprise and was nearly beheaded by the opportunist Jae in the process; however she quickly kicked the vampire twenty feet back. "Lenore," she purred. She clearly was trying to take control of the situation regardless of her surprise. "Fancy seeing you here. I thought our mutual friend had you quite occupied."

Lenore stretched as she fell into a battle pose, ignoring the pain that flared when she did so – wounds infected with Dead Man's Blood took longer than just a few hours to heal. "I am going to kill you," she called out calmy, her voice ringing as righteously as the church bells on Sunday.

Laughing, she shook her head. "Please. Not even your eldest can take me on with the support of her weak friends. You think you - _you_ - a weak two-hundred year old vampire can succeed?" Bilquis laughed scornfully. "_You are nothing_ compared to me."

_Nothing_.

No. She was wrong. Angelus was wrong. _Her father_ had been wrong. Tara had felt like somebody because Willow loved her. But Lenore? She knew she was somebody. She had loved fiercely, even if she had lost them. She had killed demons bent on inflicting pain and death to humans, even though she was a beast just as feared by those humans. She had fought against her bloodlust time and time again, and won. She had helped others do the same, and hopefully saved their souls in the process.

No. Bilquis _was wrong_. Because Lenore McLeod was _somebody_.

Her body coiled like a cobra at those words and she allowed herself a small smile. "You're wrong," she contradicted simply. Then her body flew through the air in a magnificent arc as she slashed her blade down. Bilquis met it with her own with a look of astonishment at the strength of the blow. Gritting her teeth, Lenore pressed the blade aggressively forward and Bilquis stumbled back.

"You're feisty. Such a shame you prefer to live on common cattle instead of realizing that it is the humans who should be farmed," she stated, her tone light with an underlying sense of anger and malevolence.

Lenore's blade whistled through the air and their swordplay began anew. "And it's a shame about your dress."

Bilquis gave her a quizzical expression just a second before Lenore's blade ripped through the fabric of her shirt and scratched her skin.

"You foul little whore!" Bilquis screeched in indignation as Lenore reveled momentarily in her Buffy-esque moment with a sly smile.

Bilquis' movements became quicker and suddenly harder to predict as she channeled her rancor. Lenore realized she was outmatched by this ancient vampire but she didn't let it show. Her people were depending on her now.

Her sword was suddenly knocked out of her hand and Lenore was kicked to the ground. She pressed her hands through the snow and into the earth and channeled the elements. The sky was already a sea of clouds and wouldn't need much coaxing to perform. "_Levitatas!_" she shouted. Lightning cracked through the sky and Bilquis looked up in alarm. She raised her sword to catch the bolt crashing down upon her and the air crackled with energy.

Lenore had expected the massive spell to harm Bilquis, but instead the Queen of Sheba smiled triumphantly as the electricity crackled over her body. She bent her sword towards Lenore and suddenly the bolt escaped its confines and shot right into her. Without proper warning, Lenore was defenseless and she was thrown dozens of feet at the impact. Her body groaned in protest and she struggled to right herself.

"You _really_ should have taken my offer when I gave it to you, Lenore. You should have disbanded. Instead, you chose to defy me. And now I will have your head on a pike," Bilquis stated evenly with a genial smile and predatory eyes.

"No, you will not harm her!" Jae snarled as she raced towards Bilquis. With a heavy sigh, the older vampire spun around Jae's racing form faster than the human eye could see and plunged her hand into her back. Bilquis' arm came out bloody and she licked her beating souvenir.

"Honestly, Lenore. Where do you pick up this riff-raff? I was only playing with them because I wanted to kill time just in case you managed to show," Bilquis informed her in a bored tone.

Lenore stood shakily to her feet. "Yeah, well I brought some more recruits."

Bilquis pursed her lips and looked over the battleground. "Hmm. Yes. That was rather enterprising of you. Didn't think you'd be one to work with demons though."

"Guess I'm just a fun box of surprises," Lenore stated grimly as she advanced with a slight limp towards Bilquis. "_Nieva, Agua, Hielo!_" she chanted. The snow circling Bilquis melted to flow up and encircled the vampire before freezing into a thick cage of ice. With another thought, Lenore telekinetically snatched her sword away and flung it into the distance.

She had to kill Bilquis soon. These spells were sapping her fragile strength, even if she tried to pretend otherwise.

A burst of heat stalled her movements as the ice around Bilquis burst apart, sending sharp icicles flying. "Did you really think that you're the only one here who understands magic, little Animal Drinker?"

Lenore just snarled in response and directed a punch that was easily blocked, yet her kick made contact with the Queen of Sheba's nose. Lenore concentrating on all the fighting skills she had learned while with Kali and Loki—

Ugh, Loki. The thought of him with that absolute whore Aphrodite only increased the vigor of her fighting.

But Bilquis was strong – very strong. Soon she was straddling Lenore and had her hands on her throat. "I'm going to rip your head off with my bare hands, you worthless little lamb. You were a fool to challenge a lion."

The pressure on her neck made her eyes bulged and she glanced around but saw that her people were all either dead, too badly injured, or in battles of their own. She was alone.

"Where is you _precious_ God now, Lenore? The one you fight to save your brethren for? Oh, that's right. He doesn't exist," Bilquis ridiculed her in a voice that dripped with disdain.

The pressure increased and Lenore placed her hands over Bilquis' wrists and tried to pull the other vampire off, but her grip was too tight. Black spots induced by the pressure spotted her vision, and then the spots burst into red dots.

So this was the end. She had lived for two-hundred years only to die in some frozen wasteland. She had never even been given the opportunity to see Willow again, her Willow that would be so heartbroken after 'Tara's' death and would never learn that she did still live.

_Willow_.

Lenore wasn't sure what happened, but suddenly Bilquis was thrown off her and she quickly stood to face the shocked vampire.

"How did you do that?" Bilquis hissed. "You are but a child to me!"

"Guess I put on my Huggies Pull-Ups today," Lenore stated with mild amusement. Hope flared within her and somehow she knew she would win. Because honestly, there was no other acceptable outcome.

Enraged, Bilquis snarled and leapt for her but Lenore ducked to the side, yanked down the vampire's legs, and straddled her body. "This is for Jae and Drusilla," she said as her hand plunged through the vampires ribcage, breaking bone in order to free the heart.

Bilquis' eyes widened in fear as Lenore's hand gripped her heart. "Have mercy," she suddenly begged.

She could be sincere. She could be lying. But in the end, it didn't matter. Lenore was past that now. She just wanted revenge. Perhaps it was wrong of her, but she enjoyed the sound of Bilquis' screams as she ripped out the ancient's heart, killing the Queen of Sheba once and for all.

* * *

A/N:

_References_  
*Re: Jack the Ripper: Yeah, I realized that happened in the late 1880s but I couldn't help but use that line because it seemed perfect.  
* Huggies Pull-Ups—their slogan is "Mommy, Wow! I'm a Big Kid now!"


	28. Dead Heart

Dead Heart

_Brisbane, Australia  
May 5, 1864  
_

Lenore observed the demon bar in silence as she nursed her Bloody Mary, a cocktail of mare's blood and vodka. The place was dimly lit, hidden in the basement of a human bar upstairs. A couple dozen demons congregated, some of them singing merrily and others playing cards with a basketful of kittens in the middle of the table. Thick cigar smoke filled the air and that, along with the noxious fumes some of the clientele were giving off, made her nose crinkle in distaste.

A Krasshyynk demon, a looming fellow with bulging muscles and glowing green eyes, approached her. "Oi, you usin' that other chair, vampire?"

Lenore glanced at the empty chair opposite her and then looked up at the demon. Her fingers clenched reflexively as her bloodlust whispered that she should kill this creature with a dagger to his heart, but she silenced it. "I'm expecting company."

He sighed in irritation. "Look, broad, we're settin' up a poker tourney and need all the chairs we can get. Sorry if your date stood you up, but that ain't my problem."

Her rows of fangs slid out and she bared them at the demon. "Maybe you should thin the numbers of your gang. I'd be happy to help, if you like."

Green eyes flared and his body tensed. "Are you really stupid enough to threaten me? Do you know who I am?"

"No, but I know what you are," she hissed as she leaned forward and slid her dagger out, holding it just below the tabletop. "I kill your kind, demon. So it would be stupid of _you_ to threaten _me_."

The entire bar stilled as the watched the two of the face off, some of them even placing bets in hushed voices. Lenore's lips curled into a smirk as she waited expectantly for the demon to make the first move, certain that she could finish it.

"And just who the hell are you?" he growled.

"Lenore," she smiled.

The growl caught in his throat and the angry expression slid from his face, replaced by fear.

"I take it you've heard of me?"

The Krasshyynk demon took one step back. "Look, we don't want any trouble, ya hear? Just wanted to play some poker."

Lenore frowned as she glanced at the kittens. Poor kittens. She hated evil poker. "I understand," she smiled sweetly before she returned to her drink. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the demon smile in relief. Fool. She would just kill him later. It wouldn't do to make trouble in here – after all, she did have a meeting tonight.

And speak of the devil…

"Oh Len, I see you're making friends as usual," Fergus smiled charmingly as he sashayed across the bar in the meat suit of a clean-shaved young man of twenty wearing a well-tailored suit and a golden pocket watch.

She smirked as he slid in the chair across from her. "What can I say? I'm a social butterfly."

Fergus – because no, she could never think of him as 'Crowley' – chuckled lightly and wagged his finger. "You know, they're _still_ talking about your exploits in Lisbon. You're becoming more famous now than when you led your merry little band of Animal Drinkers."

Hot guilt flashed through her but she pushed it aside, instead holding a tight grip onto the coldness that had entered her heart four years ago. "Good. All demons should be afraid. And pagan gods," she added bitterly as she thought of her latest pursuit.

"Speaking of, I've got great news, little sister," Fergus grinned as he snapped his fingers to make a bottle of Craig whiskey and a glass appear.

She waited for him to pour a drink and take a sip. "And?" she prompted.

"Oh Lenore," he sighed theatrically. "And here I thought you just enjoyed nights out drinking with me because I was your brother, not because I'm a sneaky genius full of delicious information."

"No, I just do so for the whiskey," she answered sarcastically as she took a shot straight from the bottle. She grinned as he tossed her an annoyed look.

"You bloody well know I hate it when you do that. It's disgusting and unhygienic."

She laughed. "Get to it, _Crowley_." Lenore rolled her eyes. Fergus demanded that she only address him as his demonic name in public, for whatever reason – although she suspected that 'Fergus' just wasn't scary enough for a demon.

"Heard some news from little birdies about that goddess of love you're itching to kill."

Lenore smiled. Aphrodite, Angelus, and Darla were at the top of her hit list and thus far they had carefully hid from her. For obvious reasons Angelus and Darla had to die, and with Aphrodite she knew it had not been coincidence that the goddess of love had seduced and distracted Loki that day.

Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't still angry at hell with Loki – who _still_ had yet to contact her.

"Do tell, oh favorite brother of mine," she said sweetly.

He smirked, the words 'your only brother still alive, sort of' hanging in the air. "Summer solstice is coming up and apparently Aphrodite is scheduled to appear at Demeter's 'Welcome Home' party for her daughter Persephone."

"Where?"

"Eleusina, Greece . That's the location of Demeter's temple, where the celebration will be held."

Lenore closed her eyes in relief. "Thank you, brother," she whispered gratefully.

"Anytime," he grinned. "Personally, I'm a bit jealous. Crashing a toga party – not to mention, I'm sure other pantheons will be there as well – and then killing one of the most famous goddesses in the world? Sounds like a bloody fantastic time!"

Lenore released a hollow laugh. Yes, this would be fun for her in many ways but a part of her was becoming less enthused by the constant killing. It was the only time she found even a spark of life within her, yet even that did little to inspire her. "Indeed. Tell me, how did you hear of this? I severely doubt pagans speak with demons very often."

Fergus grinned like a child on Christmas morning. "Ah, well I have some more excellent news. Thanks to your locket I was finally able to kill that Raziel bastard."

"Raziel?" she asked in puzzlement. "Isn't he your supervisor?"

"_Was_ my supervisor, luv. Guess who's the new King of the Crossroads Demons?" Fergus asked with a wide grin and gleaming eyes.

"Oh…you?" she squeaked.

He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Len. You could at least _try_ to show some enthusiasm."

"I'm sorry," she frowned. "I _am_ happy that you no longer have to follow the whims of that maniacal fool whose idea of a dream date is with Lucifer, but forgive me if the idea of my brother as sodding royalty in Hell doesn't exactly give me the warm and fuzzies," she stated dryly.

Letting out a hefty sigh, he shook his head in annoyance. "Len, you're such a bloody downer sometimes. You know, I thought you'd be a lot more fun after you ditched those veggies and hopped onto the murder carriage—"

"—Ugh, you make it sound like I'm killing _humans_. I'm just killing demons," she muttered.

"Whatever, killing is killing. Anyways, I thought you would be a lot more fun but you're still rather stiff sometimes. Come on! I want to celebrate! I deserve this after all. A dozen saints, that one pope, Van Helsing, Russian royalty, the list goes on! I am damn _good_ at my job."

"Wait – Van Helsing?" Lenore asked in surprise. "I don't remember you talking about him."

"Er…" Fergus gave her a bashful look. "Did I say Van Helsing? I meant Van Damme, this Belgian flower shop owner…"

"Crowley," she hissed in annoyance.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh Len, you're such a bother sometimes. So yes, I got Van Helsing's soul that night in Alaska. Not a big deal. Didn't he kill some of you clan members, anyways?"

"Well, yes, but that's not the point," she snapped in annoyance. "Why would the most feared Hunter known give up his soul?"

Fergus began speaking with large gesticulations. "Well…when the battle was over I got him unpossessed and he may have lost it, just a tad, when he saw his slayer girl was dead thanks to one of Bilquis' vampires. Fella was right angry, as you can believe, but I promised him that if he signed away his soul I would make sure Bilquis was dead and I would tear the demons out of his men."

Lenore just stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Why you…you double-dealing scumbag! You knew I killed Bilquis! And it was your fault the demons were in his troops to begin with!"

"Nuh-uh-uh. It was _your_ fault the demons were in his men. You made the deal," he corrected her with a teasing smile that she did _not_ find endearing in the least!

"But that's not fair!" she shouted as she pounded the table, noticing in her peripheral vision all the other bar occupants watching her warily.

Fergus shrugged and wagged his finger at her in amusement. "That's what you get, working with a demon." Then he – smartly – snapped out of the bar, surely knowing that Lenore's temper was unpredictable these days.

Lenore growled angrily at how her brother had used her for his own means. She couldn't kill him (not only could she not bear the thought of being responsible for his death, but she honestly didn't know how to kill a true demon) but she could kill other evil creatures. Slowly revolving in her chair she slid her sword out of back holster, relishing the *ting* of metal against metal as the sword scraped out. All eyes turned towards her again, fearfully taking in her dark eyes and cruel smile.

"Closing time, boys!" she called out before she flew into the crowd with relish.

_

* * *

_

Eleusina, Greece  
June 21, 1864

Sunlight flared as the dawning sun peeked over the horizon, illuminating the houses of small Greek village. Eleusina was very close to Athens and thus largely overlooked, but Lenore could feel the power that used to live in this earth. It was faded now but still simmered just under the surface of the dry, brown grass. She had concealed her presence with magic and was now hiding in a field of wheat on the outskirts of the village, sitting cross-legged with her palms against the earth. Demeter's temple was only a mile from here and she focused her concentration into the earth and requested it to tell her all.

Through her magic and the guidance of the earth she often used this tactic to spy upon her prey before she attacked. However, the earth would not respond to her requests this time. Baffled, she tried to force her way through to mystically observe the temple area but she was blocked.

"Damn," she whispered, half in annoyance and half in admiration. She should have known that this portion of the earth belonged exclusively to the goddess who had cared for it since ancient times. Demeter was the Greek goddess of the harvest and presided over the earth and plants. Obviously she had the loyalty of the earth here and Lenore wouldn't receive any outside help today.

Hmm. Lenore faded from her meditation and instead used her keen ears to listen. Her vampiric ears were powerful and could hear very well, but just to be sure she did an enhancement spell. Now she could hear the birds chirping as they circled the temple. As she continued to listen she heard the earth open up and two figures emerge.

"I hate that no-good, dour husband of yours!" a woman griped. Her voice was a low alto and as her words traveled across the field, Lenore saw the blades of wheat wave in greeting.

"Oh honestly, Mother. You would think by now you would be used to him. Hades really isn't that bad." The second voice was younger and Lenore presumed her to be Persephone and the other woman Demeter.

"Pfft. He still wears that ridiculous goatee. Honestly, how does he expect any respect? Any god worth his salt has a hearty beard that resembles a thicket rather a single blade of grass," Demeter bemoaned.

"Right, just because Daddy has a bushy beard you think my husband should as well?" The smirk was unseen by Lenore's eyes but she could hear it in the goddess' voice.

"Bushy? Hmmph. Zeus' beard is well-trimmed, thank you. Now, are you ready to stop bickering so we can prepare for your welcome home celebration?"

"Mother, _you_ were the one bickering at _me_", Persephone reminded her.

"What comes first? The seed or the plant? As in, it doesn't matter sweetheart." A moment of silence followed. "All that matters is that you're home again," Demeter said in a love-soaked voice.

Suddenly the wheat around Lenore shot up half a foot and, as she looked past the field, the brown grass brightened into a crisp green. Lenore gulped at the sight. She had been preparing for this day for a long time – the day that she would kill Aphrodite – but this was just another reminder that a goddess was far more powerful than her. Attacking Aphrodite while she was surrounded by her powerful family and other invited gods and goddesses? Probably a bad idea.

However, this was the first chance she had been given in four years and there was no way she could sit this opportunity out.

By two in the afternoon the Solstice celebration was in full swing. With so many voices overlapping each other it was becoming more difficult for Lenore to figure out who was where. However, she did know that Aphrodite had arrived several hours ago – with Loki.

The mere _idea_ that Loki was still with the goddess inflamed Lenore's need for revenge even more. This was the woman who had tricked Lenore into having sex with Heracles and then somehow blocked Lenore's message to Loki on that fateful night of Bilquis' attack. How could he be with her? Did he love her?

Lenore paused at that thought. What if Loki _did_ love her? Regardless of his hurtful behavior she still thought of him as a friend (albeit a very estranged one). Could she kill the woman he loved?

…

Well, considering that because Aphrodite interfered and cost her precious time in rescuing her people, in addition to being forced to obtain her Fergus' help, Lenore realized with clarity that she could certainly kill Aphrodite, regardless of Loki's feelings on the matter.

She wondered what that said about her.

Lenore wasn't sure how long Aphrodite would be at the party so she knew she had to act quickly. This moment was four years in the making, after all.

She began empting her bag of her supplies, grimacing slightly as she pulled out a large beach shell taken from the shores of the Aegean Sea and a heart that still, thanks to magic, beat steadily. Her nose crinkled in disgust, Lenore laid the heart in the sea shell and set it in a small ten-foot clearing she had created in the middle of the wheat field. She pulled out a vial of sea foam, also from the Aegean Sea, and sprinkled it over the heart.  
_  
"Aphrodite, this offering is for you  
A gift of what you're surely due.  
Shell, foam, and heart,  
This is just the start."_

A tremor went through the heart and the shell vibrated beneath it. Lenore slipped back into the shadows of the wheat and prayed that the magic she had poured into this spell would work.

Minutes slipped by, and with each second Lenore feared that her spell had failed to draw in the goddess of love. However, she underestimated herself because fifteen minutes later light footsteps could be heard slapping against the earth. Except…wait. There was another pair of footfalls accompanying the first.

"Aphrodite, come on. Let's get back to the party. Zeus is 'bout to bust out the piñata and you _know_ how he is – one strike of lightning and he wins, meaning I'll miss out on the candy," she heard Loki pouting.

Lenore froze. This certainly hadn't been what she had imagined. Her right hand gripped around a large wooden stake dripping with human blood and she squeezed it hard enough in surprise that she felt the shock of splinters.

"Quiet Loki, I think we're getting closer," Aphrodite hushed him, her blond hair gleaming in the sunlight.

Lenore remained silent, although she had to still her nervous heart. She hadn't seen Loki since 1852 – twelve years ago. He looked the same as always, except he seemed to have taken the party atmosphere seriously by donning a white toga and golden sandals. She couldn't help but wonder if Loki would try to stop her, perhaps even hurt her in favor of saving Aphrodite.

Hopefully that wasn't the case.

"Oooh, look an offering! For me!" Aphrodite announced gleefully as she knelt to the ground and admired the pulsing heart. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the air. "Mmm. Blood and sea foam. I love this smell."

"Remind to check the market for that cologne next time I'm out," Loki joked. But then a worried look entered his eye as Aphrodite lifted the heart to her lips. "Ditey, isn't this an odd place for an offering of a human heart?"

Aphrodite paused and Lenore silently cursed her friend. The goddess stared at the heart for a moment before shaking her head. "No, it is fine." She took a bite and then another until the heart was consumed.

Lenore mentally cheered – her spell to entice Aphrodite to eat the heart had worked!

"Oh, by Poseidon's trident," Aphrodite suddenly muttered as she clenched her stomach and crumpled to the floor.

"Aphrodite? What is it?" a panicked Loki demanded as he bent down to examine her.

"I poisoned her," Lenore answered in a voice that sounded stronger than she felt.

Loki looked at her in shock…and confusion? It was almost like he didn't recognize her. "Len…Lenore?"

"You filthy tart, you fed me a vampire's heart!" Aphrodite rasped in pain.

"Sure did," Lenore smiled coldly. "All pagan gods not associated with death feed off life. You, the goddess of love, even more so. With a shell and sea foam from your birthplace I was able to trick you with my spell."

"This won't kill me, you fool," Aphrodite spat.

"No, but this will." Lenore pulled the bloody stake from behind her back. "You need to pay, Aphrodite."

"Lenore, what's going on?" Loki asked cautiously. "Why are you talking about killing Aphrodite?"

Lenore stared angrily at the goddess of love. "Because I know she was working against me with Bilquis. They knew I would come to you for help and Aphrodite made sure you couldn't respond. Thanks to her, almost my entire clan was wiped out – only twenty members survived out of one-hundred and seventy."

Loki laughed awkwardly and shook his head. "No! Ditey would never do that." He turned towards the goddess with shining eyes. "She's the greatest woman in the world."

Lenore rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well now she's about to be the deadest woman around." She dove forward but was surprised (yet kind of not) when Loki grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"You can't kill her. I love her," he spoke passionately, his face only a foot from hers as his grip on her arm tightened.

"You should kill her Loki, before she kills me," Aphrodite moaned pitifully – yet when Lenore glanced at her the goddess was smirking at her.

Loki's head cocked to the side. "If that's what you wish, my love," he answered slowly.

"Oh for crying out loud! The goddess of love put a love whammy on you, doofus!" Lenore shouted as she slapped Loki hard across his face. "Geez, I thought you were smarter than that," she grumbled as she snatched her arm out of his grasp and rolled backwards to pick up her dropped stake.

Loki just stood silently, frowning, as his forehead crinkled in concentration. "No…I love her. For the last four years." But his speech was stilted, as if he was internally struggling against his words.

Even though she knew it was some sort of love goddess mojo, that didn't mean it didn't hurt to hear him say that. But she put her pain into action, ducking past Loki and straddling the goddess. "I don't know how you did it, but it ends now, bitch."

Aphrodite smiled in spite of the pain from her poisoning. "It's amazing what a little stolen blood bond can do," she smiled viciously. "You _really_ shouldn't have challenged me in Rome, vampire."

Screaming Lenore thrust the stake down – only to growl in protest when Loki plucked it from her hand. "I'm sorry Lenore," he stated sorrowfully, like he really meant it. He picked her up by the back of her dress and tossed her a like a sack of flour. She tumbled and he was soon straddling her body, one hand on her throat and another pressing the stake against her chest.

"Loki," she pleaded as she gazed into his glassy expression. "I know the truth," she continued in a whisper, feeling suddenly desperate. "You're an _angel_. Blood bond or not, she can't overpower you. Don't kill me."

Loki froze above her, speechless.

"Loki, kill her! I demand it!" Now Aphrodite's voice was more demanding and less loving, a truer look at her personality.

Suddenly Loki blinked, took in a deep breath, and dropped the stake. Amber eyes stared sadly into hers. "Lenore…I'm so sorry." Then he rolled off of her and clenched his fists. His face was screwed up in concentration and she had a feeling that he was struggling against whatever magic Aphrodite had set against him.

Well, she'd help with that.

"Just us girls, now," Lenore smiled smugly as she advanced with the stake.

Aphrodite began crawling away but the poisoned heart had sapped her strength. "Lenore. Heh. Darling, that was all just a little joke," she tried to explain in a light voice and innocent eyes.

"Remind me to laugh after I get done dancing on your grave," Lenore informed her grimly as she drove the stake down. Aphrodite screamed and blood hot god blood spurted onto Lenore's face, which she quickly spat away. She sighed and got up, forcing herself to look at the friend who – regardless of some blood bond nonsense or not – had betrayed her.

Loki stood as well, shaking his head, as a dazed expression melted from his face. He took in his surroundings slowly, first Aphrodite's corpse and then Lenore herself. His face fell at the sight of her and averted his eyes quickly. There was a sudden uproar of noise coming from the site of the temple and Loki pursed his lips in annoyance.

"Well this won't do." He snapped his fingers and Aphrodite's body and all of Lenore's supplies disappeared. Biting his lip almost nervously, Loki held out his arm. "Come with me if you want to live?" he asked her in an awkward attempt at humor.

Knowing she'd likely be killed if she stayed, Lenore cautiously placed one hand in Loki's, the other was still gripping her stake. A second later they were back in Loki's home in Norway and the fireplace roared to life with a snap of his fingers.

"So…" He forced a smile when he looked at her, clearly understanding that she was angry with him. "Guess I've got some 'splaining to do."

Finally. Finally Lenore was face-to-face with Loki after twelve long years. Finally she could get some answers…but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. Something had changed in her the day Bilquis ruined her life. A bloodlust for death had seeped into her heart and ice had filled her veins. All she wanted was the kill, she realized with sudden clarity. Here –now- in Loki's home, her first refuge in her life as a vampire, she just felt out of place. The cheerful fire and warm decorations only pushed her away instead of drawing them in like they had before.

And Loki…she loved him, this was something she was conscious of, but she froze that emotion before it could rise up. Life had taught her over and over again that she wasn't meant to be loved, by a lover or a friend. Something bad always happened. It was easier to avoid the useless emotion if possible.

"Actually, you don't," she informed him in a clipped tone. "Do me a favor and snap me to my safe house in Scotland – that's all I need from you."

His eyes widened at her words and she saw the sting they delivered. "Lenore, look, I know you're angry but…I don't know. I don't know how Aphrodite did it but it's like the last four years of my life have been in a fog. She was controlling—"

"—Enough," she silenced him. "Loki, I was being serious about just needing a one-way ticket to Scotland. I don't want or need anything else from you – including excuses."

His mouth snapped shut as he stared at her in hurt. "But, you've got to understand—"

Lenore hurled the stake through the air, emotionless as it embedded itself in the wall right above Loki's shoulder. "Either snap me back now or I'll bloody walk home."

Loki gazed at her in bafflement as he tried to decipher her placid expression. "Okay," he nodded finally in resignation. "That's fine." There was an undertone of hurt in his voice but she didn't really give a damn.

That was, of course, until he snapped her back home a second later and she was all alone in her shack of a safe house. She sat down heavily on her bed, feeling the weight of the world upon her shoulders, as she wondered what was happening to her. Old Lenore would have cared about hurting Loki's feelings…so why didn't she anymore?

Why didn't she really care about anything, anymore?

A/N:  
Yay for having my 'LAL' musie come to play with me again – and so often! :)  
Thanks to everyone for reading & reviewing!

_References_  
* Information about the locations of gods' temples: .  
*I meant Van Damme, this Belgian flower shop owner…"- Jean Claude Van Damme's father owned a flower shop in Belgium, hence my little joke ;)  
* "That's what you get, working with a demon."—What Crowley tells Dean in "The Devil You Know"  
* Demeter's city: .org/wiki/Eleusina  
*Demeter: .org/wiki/Demeter (includes the story of how Hades stole Persephone and how Demeter got her back for the summer season)  
* Persephone: .org/wiki/Persephone  
* "Come with me if you want to live?" he asked her in an awkward attempt at humor.-Terminator reference  
****The blood bond is a reference to S5 Hammer of the Gods when Kali bound Loki to her 'now and forever' by stealing some of his blood. I believe that such a thing, coupled with Aphrodite's ability to inspire lust and love, would make for a potent love spell capable of bending just about anything to her will.


	29. The Logic of the Dying

**The Logic of the Dying**

_St. Petersburg, Russia  
November 22, 1869  
_

"Care to dance?" an accented voice purred in her ear.

Lenore gave the speaker a bland look. She was statuesque with brilliant blue eyes and long blond hair pulled back in an exquisite design. Her evening gown matched her eyes and it was extremely revealing for something in this decade – it tightened around a complimentary corset and her bosom spilled out almost far enough to see her nipples. She was gorgeous, to be sure, but there was another problem.

She was a vampire – one that drank humans.

"I didn't come here to dance, just a drink," Lenore explained as she gestured towards her Bloody Mary. This vampire-owned establishment was one she was researching. The head vampire of this city was a half-breed named Dmitri known for his cut-throat savagery. For whatever reason there were more half-breeds flocking here than you could shake a stick at and sources said Angelus and his gang were here as well. Not to mention, Lenore was curious as to why this city's vampire population was growing – it was always smart to know everything about your prey before you attacked.

"Baby," she leered, "if it's a drink you want I got a cute little street urchin in the back. Want to share with me?"

Lenore blanched. The instinct to kill the vampire rose in her mind, but she couldn't. Not here among so many. Half-breeds were nothing compared to her but a room of thirty of them? That may stress even her abilities.

"Listen, I'm actually looking for a fellow named Angelus. Travels with Darla and Drusilla?"

The other vampire scowled in a petulant way. "Should have known you were taken."

Lenore discarded the compliment. "So they're here?"

"I heard they were going to check out the Hermitage."

"Thanks," Lenore said with a patient smile as she spun away and exited the bar.

_Finally_.

* * *

The Hermitage was part of the Winter Palace and home to hundreds of fine art pieces ranging from ancient Egyptian to the Baroque. Lenore had always desired to see the famous art pieces here but never had a chance. Hmm. Perhaps after she killed Angelus and Darla she would take a midnight stroll through the museum.

There seemed to be a royal party taking place and Lenore silently cursed her luck. No wonder they were here – no doubt Angelus would drain a member of royalty amidst the chaos of the party. All these humans here would make it much more difficult to corner the two vampires. Worse, she still had not decided what to do about Drusilla. She suspected the young vampire would try to protect her sire if she was here but Lenore didn't want to kill her.

_Yes_, she knew that Drusilla was no longer truly 'Drusilla', but the guilt Lenore harbored over her death made her reluctant to kill the girl. She was clearly mad but perhaps it would be possible for Lenore to gain her trust and teach her to feed off only animal blood.

Lenore bypassed the guards easily with a silent spell that hid her from their eyes. She was so thankful for her magic. While living with Loki and Kali she had learned how to use it and over the centuries it helped her to live. Of course, she had never used it that much because she did not want to become dependent on it, but now that she had been alone for almost ten years she used it every day. Since she was alone and hunting demons, she clearly had to – it was necessary. It made life so much easier.

She flitted through the crowd like a dancing butterfly, easily making her way through the ballroom. Her sharp eyes took in every person and she was surprised when she bumped into a familiar face.

"Anyanka!" Lenore said in surprise.

Anyanka pulled away from the woman she was talking to and cocked her head to the side. "Oh…you! How are…_you_, you?"

Lenore rolled her eyes at the fact that Anyanka could never remember her. "Lenore? You know, you saved me from that angel and we saw each other at Heracle's party?"

"OH! _You're_ Lenore?" Anyanka cried out in surprise. She glanced at the woman next to her and grimaced when a man whisked her off to dance. "Great, thanks a lot," she grumbled. "I was just trying to get her to curse that guy."

Then Anyanka's eyes widened. "Curse? I mean…hah. Not curse. I, um, don't do that anymore. Nope! I'm a very friendly demon sent here to cure syphilis and hug puppies and pat little children on the head."

Lenore found herself snickering at the demon's outburst. "I'm not here to kill you."

Anyanka let out a sigh of relief. "Coulda fooled me, you crazy vampire. I've heard a lot about you and your rather blood-soaked hijinks as of late."

Lenore shrugged. "We all have our hobbies."

Laughing in surprise, Anyanka shook her head. "Indeed. Although last I remembered your hobbies involved trying to be a good little vampire converting others peacefully. And boning the Immortal. How's he by the way?"

Guilt danced upon her heart at the mention of her old ways. "Most of my kind are extinct now, thanks to the Hunters – and the Great Battle of Alaska – so there's no use trying to convert others. As for the Immortal? We're no longer together."

"Hmm, pity," Anyanka frowned. "Was he not that good in the sack?"

"No, he was quite good, actually," Lenore smiled in amusement. "It just wasn't a love connection or anything."

"Love! Ha, who needs that?" Anyanka said scornfully. "Love is for fools!"

"Yeah…I kind of agree with you on that," Lenore admitted.

Anyanka's brown eyes assessed her intently. "Hmm, yes, I can smell the heartbreak wafting off you. Such a shame I don't do curses for other demons, you really look like you could use one."

The almost sympathetic tone of Anyanka's softened something in her. It made her remember her old life and hanging out with the gang in the Magic Box. "Yeah, well," she shrugged, "I'm taking my own revenge."

"Oh, what fun! That is, of course, as long as you don't kill me." She pursed her lips. "Well, actually, I am immortal so I 'spose I don't have to worry about that, but one can never know with you witchy types."

"Don't worry, I'm rather…fond of you," Lenore informed her with a smile.

"Thanks! You know, you're not that bad yourself. Unless you're still all 'yay animal blood, boo humans.' Because that's not as much fun."

"I don't eat humans," Lenore stated sharply. It was always tempting though, even more so than it used to be.

"Hmm. Well, that's boring. I woulda thought as Crowley's pet you'd have changed that by now."

"…What?"

Anyanka looked at her like she was stupid. "The King of the Crossroads Demons' pet? He sends you to kill anyone that looks at him wrong."

Lenore silently cursed her brother. Sure he gave her tips on some of the real bad demons during their drinking sessions but she certainly wasn't his damn pet. She should have known that he would say something like that – anything to make him look even more intimidating. He had told her at Heracles' party that he would always love her but had never said such a thing since then. She enjoyed his company and did love him, but sometimes she wondered just how evil he was. Maybe he didn't love her but was just using her for his own ends.

That hurt almost as bad as Loki's rejection.

"I'm not his goddamn pet," Lenore snarled.

"Hmmph, jeez, okay Lenore. Way to get all testy 'bout it. But demons talk and everyone knows you two hang out. You better not be screwing him though – he's my favorite toy this century."

Lenore let out a snort of laughter; her anger already dissipating. She really did enjoy Anyanka. "That's fine, you can have him. He's not my type."

"Oh yeah? Well who is?" Anyanka asked curiously.

Just then Lenore spotted a flash of blond hair accompanied by a man with broad shoulders that she would recognize anywhere. "He is," she smiled grimly in anticipation as she abruptly left Anyanka.

She slid through the couples dancing on the ballroom floor, her eyes intent on her prey. Angelus glanced up once and his eyes widened when he saw her. He scowled and led Darla outside. Lenore followed in hot pursuit and when she entered the spacious gardens of the Hermitage, she glanced around wildly. She had long suspected that the vampires had some sort of charm to hide them from her magic and that theory was proven – she couldn't feel their presence at all.

There was a maze made of high hedges in the center of the garden and something told Lenore they were in there. Angelus and Darla were known for their games and they would undoubtedly love to fight here within a maze. Of course, it would be dangerous to enter there but Lenore wasn't afraid. She had been waiting years for this.

Eyes and ears alert, Lenore entered the maze cautiously. She used a spell to summon her sword and now held it aloft, ready to thrust it into one of the vampires. Once she had them she planned on killing them _very_ slowly.

"Oh Lennie-poo, have you missed me?" she heard Angelus ask with a dark laugh. His voice hung in the air, heavy and ominous, but due to the layout of the maze she had no idea where he was.

Lenore, smarter than that, stayed silent. She would not give up her location. Instead she just tried to follow his voice.

"Lenore, you should really see your granddaughter. Drusilla is an exquisite beauty, especially when her pretty lace dress is soaked in baby blood. She's truly a treasure."

She knew he was baiting her but she couldn't help but ride out the wave of fury his words brought out. Angelus would pay, dearly.

"Not to mention, she mewls at me like a wanton whore if I neglect her too much. Mmm, she loves the feel of me between her legs. In fact, sometimes I imagine it's you when I'm fucking my dear 'daughter'."

A hiss of anger escaped her but she stayed otherwise silent. She did not doubt that his words were true – Drusilla without a soul would be much different from the saintly girl she had known. Even more reason to torture the bastard.

She felt something sharp pierce her right arm and she lost her grip on her sword. Growling she peered at her bloody arm and yanked out the offending weapon. "Really, Angelus? A ninja star?"

"Um, the proper word is 'shuriken'," he answered pompously right behind her. She whirled around and he quickly kicked away her sword.

"Where's Darla?"

"Gosh, I don't know," Angelus replied with a mocking smile.

Lenore raised her hand, intending to telekinetically throw him onto the ground, and _pushed_ at him.

Angelus just stood there grinning and she gawked in surprise. "Aw, I'm sorry. Is my anti-witch protection charm throwing you off?" Then he plowed into her, kneeing her in the stomach and punching her in the nose. Lenore screamed and broke his arm at the same time he busted her kneecap.

"You will die today, Angelus!" she swore as she pirouetted away from his kick, then leapt over him to punch the vampire hard enough to break his backbone. He grunted and stumbled but managed to throw two hard punches her way, which she returned with a rib-cracking kick. He fell backwards and she flew onto him in a rage, punching him until his face was covered with blood.

And then he laughed.

"You're feisty," he grinned as he grabbed the sides of her hips and thrust upward. Disgusted by the feel of his arousal, she rolled off him and then stabbed her booted heel into his crotch.

"Darling, don't tell me you started the foreplay without me," Darla stated forlornly with a glimmer of a smile as she held up Lenore's sword.

"What can I say? Lennie here is insatiable!" Angelus laughed.

With a guttural cry, Lenore flew towards Darla. The older vampire laughed and swung the sword, but Lenore danced away from it. Darla was skilled, even more so than Angelus, but Lenore had fought against gods. While Angelus watched in amusement, still spitting up blood, he called out a warning when Lenore gained the upper hand and tore the sword from Darla's hand. Screaming like an Amazon warrior, Lenore kicked Darla backwards onto the ground and then drove the sword into her heart. The vampire let out a shrill scream, gasping in shock, but was still alive.

After all, only wood in her heart would kill her. But this? This would hurt like a bitch – especially since she got the sword blessed by a priest beforehand.

Lenore pulled a stake out of her boot but was surprised by Angelus tackling her. His broken bones and bloody cuts were certainly not enough to hurt him for long, but dammit! Would it kill fate to have just given her another minute?

She fought against his bear hug, her hand holding the stake flailing about. Lenore felt him shift above her and then another ninja star stabbed through her wrist, almost severing it. Dropping her stake, she saw him grab it and roll her over. Before she could move the stake was implanted in her heart.

PAIN exploded in her chest and she SCREAMED in one long stream of sound as red spots erupted in her vision.

Angelus' voice came to her almost like a dream. "Shame stakes can't kill your kind. But a beheading can."

She felt the cool blade of the sword slice into her throat. Blood spurted out and she heard Angelus' laughter. But then the laughter was gone and she was so, oh so, very confused, and was she dead yet?

"HEY! Vampire! What are you doing here!" a female voice called, one that sounded crisp and clean and rather familiar.

Moments later there was someone next to her muttering to herself. Lenore wondered when the pain, oh _god_ the pain, would end.

There was a pulse of magic and the voice was shouting, "Crowley! Get here if you want your pet to live!"

But Lenore was fading…there was a tunnel entering the earth, colored in shades of grey, and it beckoned her to approach. "Come in," it seemed to whisper temptingly. "Forget your battles. They are over. Find peace."

She heard a frantic male voice above her. "Len? Dammit Len, don't you die. I won't allow it! Come back, I command it!"

How funny…those words sounded so familiar…ah, yes, it is because she had already died once. She wondered…where would she go when she died this time? This tunnel? Or would she be reborn again?

Perhaps she should find out…

_

* * *

_

Paris, France  
December 15, 1869

"Goddammit Len! I need you to drink," Fergus commanded her.

Lenore blinked once, a forceful _no_, in response. She couldn't speak because her head was barely hanging onto her head so she wasn't able to tell him '_Hell no, I am not drinking human blood._' However, he was able to read it in her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody stubborn. You're not healing at all and if you don't drink human blood to heal you're going to bloody die, you moron," he ranted at her angrily.

Lenore knew his anger shouldn't please her, but it did. He must love her after all.

He sighed in irritation, a long heavy sigh that slapped her in the face. "Fine. Do you want to die? Then die! Because that animal blood you drink isn't healing you. It barely sustains you as is – it was never meant to heal a vampire from this type of attack."

She just stared back with a tenacious look in her eye. It hurt, everything _hurt_ so bad, like she was standing on top of the sun and it was burning her from the inside. But she couldn't do what he wanted of her. No matter how much she had fallen she couldn't bring herself to do that.

Fergus let out a growl of frustration and kicked his chair. "You're an idiot, Len. Most vampires don't even survive a three-quarter decapitation _and_ a stake to the heart. And you certainly won't if you don't drink some damn human blood."

There was crying in the corner. Lenore knew it was the scared street girl Fergus had picked up for her. Poor girl. She was afraid what Fergus would do to her but Lenore couldn't drink form her. Not now. Not anymore.

_

* * *

_

Paris, France  
January 18, 1870

Fiery. Flaming. Burning. Bubbling. Hot. Sharp. Uncontrollable. Never-ending.

Lenore was almost an expert by now in thinking of different words to describe the constant pain she was immersed in. Her condition had not improved since her attack. Her sword had been blessed by a priest and she had never expected it to be shoved into her own body. That fact, coupled with her lack of healing human blood, prevented her neck wound from fully healing. Her heart had been completely ruptured by Angelus' stake but whatever magic it was that animated her was still keeping her alive – but just barely. She lay immobile in a bedroom of Crowley's immense estate (likely the estate of his meat suit). Three times a day one of his demon servants – his type, not the fleshy kind she killed – would feed her animal blood, but it did nothing to heal her.

She was dying. Slowly but surely Death was coming to claim her.

She let out a noise of agony as a particularly painful stab of pain sliced through her chest. Everything hurt so much that it took all of her concentration to ignore the tempting treats Fergus would bring for her. He always brought criminals – murderers and rapists – because, he said, "It's not like they deserve to live anyway!"

And god help her, but in her desperation for a release from the pain she was starting to believe him.

_

* * *

_

Paris, France  
March 11, 1870

A gentle hand ran through her hair. Lenore sighed happily at the smallest bit of pleasure amidst the pulsing pain that surrounded her life.

"Len," Fergus whispered in a tortured voice. "Len, I don't want you to die."

Her vocal cords were still shorn to shreds so she couldn't respond. But she gave him a soft look. She didn't want to go, either. Fergus visited her every day and she really did love her brother. Then there were all those unanswered questions about Willow and her past/future in Sunnydale. But the pain was unbearable. She could barely even swallow animal blood now. A part of her wanted to die.

Fergus frowned. "Please, please have some human blood, " he practically begged.

She shook her head and he just growled in irritation.

_

* * *

_

Paris, France  
April 2, 1870

She let out a guttural cry of pain and convulsed in her bed. It was the end. She knew it.

_She was dying._ Every time she shut her eyes she saw that grey tunnel rising out of the earth to greet her, beckoning her to fall down the rabbit hole.

"Goddamn it, Len! I let you try it your way," she heard her brother shout, but it sounded like his voice was coming through water, distorted and hard to understand. "Now it's time you tried mine!"

Something wet hit her lips and she recoiled at the burning sensation. Her body felt like ice but this…oh this made her feel _good_. She licked her lips and made a sound of joy as more of the warmth entered her mouth. It traveled through her body, lighting up her entire world, and she shivered in contentment.

Every day for a week her brother would bring her more of this delicious treat. It wasn't until her mind was fully functioning from her near-comatose state that she realized he was feeding her humans.

"Lenore, you would have died otherwise," he explained to her in annoyance.

"I said no humans!" she rasped. She had gone months without being able to talk but now her throat, while still raw, was starting to become fully functional.

What she hated the most about this situation was that Fergus had been correct – human blood really was the key to healing her.

"And _I_ should have done that months ago! Look at you! You no longer look like Death. You're finally healing, even if you probably will be bed-bound for a while."

"Well I won't drink anymore," she sternly informed him, even as part of her mind rebelled.

He crouched at her bedside and took her hand. "I swear by my shiny King of the Crossroads Demons crown that I only fed you evil men. That's not so bad, right?"

"You have a…crown?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, yes. 'Course, it's made out of the bones of little children but it's still rather shiny," he smiled charmingly

She groaned in revulsion at the mental image.

"Lenore," he brother stated in a commanding voice. "Think about it. You've spent years killing evil demons. But what about humans? Some of them are just as evil – if not more so. I mean, what sort of creature kills their own kind?" His nose crinkled in disgust.

"Killing humans is wrong," she said, although her conviction wasn't completely in it. She had seen a lot in her worldly travels and knew he was correct – there really were some evil humans out there.

"So what? So you'll kill demons but neglect Mr. Ax Murderer all because he's human, even though he's about to kill an entire family? And what about Mr. No-Means-Yes? You gonna let him live even though he rapes women and children with pleasure?" Fergus questioned incredulously.

Lenore shuddered. The thought of rape still, even after all these years away from Aurelius, filled her with repulsion. "It's not my place."

"If not yours, then whose? Who's going to save all those people?"

"…The police," she replied hesitantly.

Fergus snorted in disdain. "Right, because they're so bloody effective compared to a witchy vampire who can read auras and know when someone's evil. Suuuure."

"I'm not a killer," she air with an air of finality – even though it sounded more like a protest to her ears than a statement.

_

* * *

_

Paris, France  
April 16, 1870

After spending the last two weeks solely on animal blood, Lenore's wounds began to pain her once more. She couldn't walk without stumbling from the pain in her chest and her neck sometimes couldn't support her head when she stood up. Throughout it all a pulsing fiery pain ate away at her body – and her mind. It was almost unbearable. She was spiraling downwards and she didn't know how to stop her descent.

She didn't want to die. Both times she had been on death's doorway she had seen something. Some sort of tunnel leading into the ground. That wasn't Heaven. She didn't think it was Hell either, but she knew anyplace leading into the ground couldn't be good.

Lenore had never thought that she would be denied Heaven. She had tried _so_ hard for over two lifetimes to be good and help others and save lives – and she still wasn't good enough for Heaven? The thought made her chest squeeze painfully at the apparent rejection. Did that mean she lied to her clan members? That she hadn't been able to save their souls after all? Were they in this dark hell-like place suffering and cursing her name?

She didn't know. But she did know that she didn't want to go there.

But it was becoming clearer that the only way she'd survive was if she drank human blood. Maybe - _maybe_ - she would heal on her own after at least one week of human blood under her belt. But it might take years for her to finish healing on only animal blood. Years of suffering.

…And why should she spend years suffering when she could be out there saving others from the evils of the world? Just as she had been over the last ten years?

Not to mention, if she died now and went down that tunnel, she would never see Willow again. Her former love was a good person and clearly would end up in Heaven.

Yes, if she considered it that way it all sounded quite rational. And Fergus had a point – innocent lives weren't just taken by demons. Did it really matter if she drank the blood of evil humans?

Besides, it's not like she had a chance at Heaven anymore.

Later that night her brother's eyes lit up when she announced her decision. Not to long after that she gluttonly drank the tangy taste of a murderer's blood.

_

* * *

_

Zaragoza, Spain  
May 7, 1876

"Cheers to the birthday girl!" Fergus cried out gaily as he hoisted his tumbler of whiskey over their patio table in the plaza.

"Woo!" Anyanka shouted as she held up her _limon granizado_ – a lemonade slushy drink that she had spiked with vodka.

Lenore laughed and held up her glass of red wine. "_Salud_, as the natives would say!"

The three of them, regular drinking buddies at this point, each took a swig of their drink. They were seated in a busy plaza during a warm spring night that featured a string quartet and dancing in the center of the open outdoor area. Since Lenore had fully recovered from her attack she had started spending more and more time with her brother. More time with Fergus inevitably meant more time with Anyanka (he was, as she had said, her 'toy' of the century). At first Lenore had been afraid to allow the demon to get to know her but she finally decided it wouldn't really matter. While she looked just like her past persona (except her hair was black), Anyanka would likely just assume that Tara was her descendent (which, oddly, she was. But she didn't like to think of that because the idea that she was her own ancestor kind of freaked her out).

Besides…Lenore kind of missed having friends. And now, even more so, she could never go back to the friends she used to have. At this point in her life it was easier to have friends who were a bit morally ambiguous. They understood her better than anyone at the moment.

"You know what this place needs? Needs some party decorations," Fergus stated as he looked around.

Lenore made a face. "Crowley, I'd hate to see your idea of party decorations. I'm not really into using entrails as garlands."

He just smirked at her and sipped his Craig whiskey.

"Entrails are fun to look at but so smelly. Personally I prefer decapitated heads." Anyanka leaned forward intimately. "For example you should have _seen_ the party after Marie Antoinette's head got chopped off! Ha, oh man, we danced for hours around that thing."

Fergus laughed and Lenore just shook her head with a smile on her face. Oh wow. Sometimes she couldn't wait to head to Sunnydale in the future and regale the Scoobies with tales of Anyanka's past…well, on second thought Xander would probably get rather skittish about the knowledge of his former fiancé.

Just to get her brother to shut up, Lenore performed a couple silent, but powerful spells. Immediately the plaza was decorated with red garland and fireworks were exploding over the sky.

"Nice!" Fergus admired. "Although it would probably be more fun if it was humans exploding up there," he added – then winced after she smacked him.

"My, you are rather powerful," Anyanka observed as the fireworks continued for twenty minutes. "Your magic is much stronger than I remember."

Lenore shrugged. "I suppose that's what happens when you use it everyday."

Of course, she knew that if Willow could hear her then Lenore would sound rather hypocritical at that moment. As Tara she had time and time again critiqued Willow for her dependence on magic. But it was just that Lenore was different. Sure, she never used to use magic so often but she had been at it for a while and it didn't seem to matter much. Lenore just figured it was different since she was a vampire, and a rather older one at that.

Once the fireworks ended, Anyanka turned back to Lenore and Fergus. "So, I'm thinking tonight we should purchase many of these tasty lemon-y drinks and then find a woman who's been jilted by her lover!" she decided with an enthusiastic smile.

Fergus groaned. "Honestly Anyanka, don't you ever think about anything besides work?"

"Sometimes I think about how you do that one thing you do with your—"

"Okay, enough of the mental imagery," Lenore shuddered in distaste. Anyanka didn't know (because Fergus was too paranoid for anyone to realize that, why yes, he was human at one time) that Fergus was her brother so she didn't understand just why the mental image would weird her out,

Anyanka took another drink and rolled her eyes. "Besides," she continued to Fergus, "_you're_ one to talk. On the walk through the plaza I saw you listening in on that desperate man trying to stave off his loan shark."

Fergus just smirked, the wide lips of his current meat suit (a Sicilian mafioso) curling in amusement. "Hey, King of—"

"—Yadda yadda yadda," Anyanka cut him off before she turned to Lenore. "Is it just me or does he bring up his new title at least twice a day." She rolled her eyes at him. "You've been the bloody king now for twelve years now, junior. Get over yourself."

"Junior?" he repeated disdainfully.

"I have over half a millennium on you," she sniffed as she tapped her fingers against the patio table.

Lenore began to tune them out and didn't hear Fergus' response. They were usually like this and usually she found it amusing, but not so much today. Something just felt off about everything in general. There was a hole in her heart and she wasn't quite sure how to fill it. Oh, she tried everything. Saving babies from burning buildings, killing violent criminals, killing monsters…nothing was ever quite enough.

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened had she just stayed at Loki's. Or stayed with Eli when he asked her not to leave. Or, better yet, what would have happened if she had never left Alaska for Drusilla.

But then she thought – did it even matter? She was rejected from Heaven already, apparently. Clearly her life was damned. In fact, as of late she had started to despise Loki and Kali for making her believe differently so long ago – that she could still be good, that the forces of Good were looking out for her. Lenore should have known that when her former guardian angel Castiel had been ordered to smite her that God had forsaken her. Her years trying to save the souls of her vampire brethren had been for naught. God didn't want them.

She wondered who did.

"Where do we go when we die?" Lenore asked them rather abruptly.

Clearly in the middle of their argument, they gave her a curious look.

"Well that's a rather maudlin thought, luv," Fergus observed.

"I was just wondering. You know, when I almost died after Angelus I saw something…a tunnel leading into the earth. Do we go to Hell?" This thought had been on her mind for years now but she had been too afraid to ask previously.

"No," Fergus said scornfully. "Hell only deals with human souls. 'Course, we turn 'em into demons…" he grinned knowingly.

"Then where?"

Fergus shrugged but Anyanka spoke up. "Don't be silly. Everyone knows all supernatural creatures go to Purgatory when they die."

"Purgatory?" they repeated in unison.

"Yeah. You know, not quite Heaven, not quite Hell. All the monsters go there."

"Interesting," Fergus mused.

"No matter what? Even if they're good?" Lenore asked in surprise.

Anyanka let out a snort of derision. "Please. Do you think those jerk angels want some deformed hybrid of a thing sullying up their prime real estate?"

"Well, that's not fair!" Never mind that it had been exactly what Lenore had feared all these years. Of course, she had to admit that Purgatory was likely better than Hell.

Anyanka shrugged. "I don't make the rules. All I know," she grinned suddenly, "is that I'm immortal so I don't even have to worry about it."

Lenore made a noise of frustration and signaled her waiter. "I need more to drink."

A devious smile curled onto Fergus' features. "Then why are we wasting our time here? Let's go to the dangerous side of town and find something a bit more…entertaining."

"Ooh, yes, that sounds fun!" Anyanka clapped her hands.

"Eh." Lenore shrugged. She didn't really care one way or another. "Why not?"

Fergus winked. "For your birthday I think I'll find you the most evil man in this town – someone who's a combo of all your favorite meals – a rapist, a murderer, and a puppy-kicker."

Lenore laughed. "I've never drank anyone _just_ because they kick puppies…Although if they murder a person _and_ kick puppies, then for sure," she smirked.

Her brother and Anyanka laughed heartily at the image. Lenore found herself smiling as they made their way to the other end of town, carefully pushing away that little voice she called her conscience.

* * *

A/N:

Next up: a visit from an old friend!

_References_  
* Hermitage: .org/wiki/Hermitage_Museum  
*Zaragoza: rumored beginning of Christianity in Spain (and a beautiful city)  
*Purgatory: This has not been clearly defined in Supernatural but it is a major part of the Season 6 storyline. This was my take on it.


	30. Intervention

**Intervention**

_Bucarest, Romania  
October 25, 1886_

The man she was following wore a dilapidated brown shirt and trousers with his thin black hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He was walking hand in hand with an intoxicated teenage girl who could barely remain upright. A leer formed on his face as he observed her and Lenore knew in her gut that he was intending on taking advantage of the girl. Fury rose up within her at the sight and she ached to sink her fangs into him. Scum like this didn't deserve to live.

Apparently this scum lacked patience because he suddenly shoved the girl into the alley. He muttered harsh words as he held her wrists in one hand and rubbed against her.

"Hey!" Lenore shouted. "If it's action you're looking for, I can give you some of that!" Her Romanian wasn't perfect but it was decent enough for this type of conversation.

The scumbag looked over her linen dress that clung to her curves and dipped enticingly low. He licked his lips. "Why hello my little dumpling," he grinned; Lenore rolled his eyes at his term of 'endearment'. "Wait your turn and I'll give you some action." Then his hand moved and before she realized it he had stabbed the girl in her stomach with a knife that had been hidden in his pocket.

With a snap of Lenore's fingers the girl flashed out of the man's arms and to the other side of the alley, gasping in pain.

"Hey! She was mine!" the man objected.

Lenore gave him a mocking smile and sashayed over towards the man. She never used to play with her food but now it was becoming habit. It was just that death wasn't good enough for the vermin she ate. They deserved to be toyed with and terrorized. She tapped his nose and then seductively ran her finger past his lips and down his chest. "Aren't I enough, darling?" she purred.

His grin widened, but then his eyes narrowed. "It's not as much fun when they want it," he slurred drunkenly.

Lenore laughed harshly and cradled his jaw in her hands. "What? You don't want to share bodily fluids with me?"

"Heh, well, I 'spose that wouldn't be so bad," he said as his lips ran lewdly over his lips. He suddenly pushed her against the wall and his hips jutted meaningfully against hers. His hands started to unbutton his pants but Lenore stopped him with one gentle hand.

"Allow me," she said huskily. Her hand went to cup the man's genitalia over his pants and he moaned in anticipation. Then her hands crushed the organ in one sweeping display of strength. He let out a piercing shriek of pain and her lips twisted into a sadistic smile.

"I'm sorry," she said mockingly. "Is that not the action you were thinking of?"

The man was laying on the ground with both hands over his crotch and sobbing uncontrollably. Lenore bent over him and grabbed his jaw again, forcing him to look at her. "How many girls have you raped?"

Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his face was pinched with pain. "What?" he asked in bewilderment.

She smacked the back of his head into the brick of the alley pavement – except oops, she put too much strength into that and now he was bleeding. Mmm. The smell of the blood made her fangs itch to protrude but she wanted to save that revelation for a moment. "How many girls have you raped?"

"I-I don't r-rape!" he stammered between tears.

Lenore smacked him into the pavement again. "I know you're lying. It's best that you confess your sins before you die."

"Fine! Fine!" he said quickly. "E-eight of 'em, okay? I-I'm sorry; I won't ever do it again!"

She chuckled. Funny how wicked men always felt that honesty was the best policy when they were trying to evade death. "Well of course you won't ever do it again – because I'm going to kill you," she promised him sweetly. Her fangs extended and the man screamed uncontrollably. Enough so that it was hurting her ears so she decided to break his jaw. Then she sank her fangs into his neck and drank from him hungrily.

Mmm….yes…she had been a fool for so many years to avoid human blood. There was nothing wrong with drinking from evil humans. She was helping society in fact. And ohhhhh, it was so delicious…the best of both worlds, really. She got to help humans, just like people expected of her, but she got to have her cake and eat it too.

When she was done she used her magic to slash the man's throat so her fang marks wouldn't show. "God, that was good," she mumbled in post-feeding contentment. She turned to walk back to her hotel room but the bleeding girl in the alley distracted her. Drawn in by the scent of her blood, Lenore stood over and observed her. She was perhaps only fifteen with stringy blond hair and a threadbare dress. Likely an orphan or perhaps a prostitute. Her blood smelled sweet like white wine – so much different from the tangy and bittersweet taste of her usual victims. Lenore got down on her knees so she could enjoy the bouquet of the saccharine scent a bit easier.

The girl's eyes widened in fear. "You're a monster!"

Something snapped within Lenore. "_I'm_ a monster?" she repeated scathingly. "That man was going to rape and murder you!"

"Y-you eat p-people!" the girl cried out fearfully as she shrank back from Lenore's touch. "You are _nosferatu_!"

Furious, Lenore yanked the girl up by her throat. "I just saved your life, human. You should be grateful," she hissed. The girl just continued crying; even further enflaming Lenore's emotions. How _dare_ this human, this petulant _child_, call her a monster? Was she a fool? Did she want to be raped? Anyone intelligent would clearly see that Lenore was a champion of _good_. Clearly this girl was a moron.

Lenore shuddered as the scent of the girl's blood became stronger, filling her nostrils like sweetened honey. Yes, this girl was a moron. And a gut wound in this day and age? Even if a doctor healed it the girl would likely just get an infection and die. And that, Lenore knew, would be painful. Really, if she was this girl's savior she should just put her out of her misery. Besides, she was just a street rat and not too bright at that – was she really a worthy addition to the world?

With that thought in mind, Lenore smiled serenely at the girl and bit gently into her neck. The rush of sweetened blood met her lips and Lenore sucked at it hungrily. Normally she never fed more than once in a night but this? Mmm, oh yes, _this_ she could make room for.

When Lenore was done slashed the girl's throat as well and got up to her feet. She turned to walk home but a figure in the shadows made her stop in surprise.

Loki stared at her in horror, his mouth agape and his eyes shining sadly in the night. "Lenore…what's become of you?"

Overcoming her surprise, Lenore pushed past him, self-consciously wiping the blood off her face. "Nothing Loki."

He followed her down the cobblestone street. "Nothing?" he exclaimed. "Damn Lenore, I knew something had changed when I saw you in Greece. But I stayed away like you wanted. Then I start hearing these rumors that you're on a demon-killing tour of the world and I thought, 'Hey! Good for her!' Next thing I know I'm hearing tales of you killing _humans_ and when I try to find you I _can't_ because you've done some sort of fucking concealment charm against me! Now I find you thanks to a tip and I catch you _drinking_ from an _innocent human_?" he asked in outrage.

Loki was furious, she could tell just by the sound of his voice and the fact that he cursed. Usually Loki came up with creative words or phrases (like muttonhead) instead of cursing – he always said curses weren't creative and Loki refused to be boring.

"What's it to you?" she snarled as she suddenly turned to face him. This portion of the street was empty and Lenore hoped for the sake of innocent lives no one tried to interfere while taking a midnight stroll – because things were going to get ugly.

"What's it to me?" he asked angrily. "Lenore, I _know you_. You don't do this! You're not a killer!"

Lenore let out a harsh laugh. "Right, like you really know me."

"Yeah, I think I do!" he responded with his chin jutted out stubbornly. "I know some bad stuff happened almost thirty years ago and I guess this is your idiotic way of dealing with it, but I do know this isn't the real you!"

She stepped into his personal space and stared into his eyes. "Besides the night I killed your fucking girlfriend you haven't said one word to me since you left me in Egypt. There were plenty of opportunities to find me before I did that concealment spell."

His face crumpled and pain flashed in his eyes. "Lenore, I'm sorry," he apologized softly. "I know I didn't handle any of that the right way—"

Lenore cut him off with a scornful laugh. "What are you talking about? You handled it 'The Loki Way' – your usual method."

Apprehension flared in his expression. "What's 'The Loki Way'?" he questioned.

"Run away."

Loki visibly flinched.

"It's what you do best, isn't it? 'Oh no, my ex is hitting on my best friend? I'll run away and never talk to my best friend again!' Or my personal favorite: 'Oh no, my best friend just kissed me, but hey! I'll kiss her back just to toy with her and then abruptly leave like it's nothing!" Lenore was panting now. The rapist's blood and the girl's blood was coursing hotly in her veins and she was _so_ angry that Loki had the gall to confront her.

She paused and watched his guarded expression. "Oh wow!" she exclaimed sarcastically. "Looks like I actually managed to get the infamous Trickster god to shut up for a second!"

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Face it Loki, you can't tell me how to live my life when yours is such a mess and you betrayed me time and time again. Maybe if you hadn't left me in Egypt we still would have been friends and you could have helped me in Alaska. Or hey! Maybe if you weren't banging some love goddess then you could have helped me when I was lying in a cellar, poisoned with Dead Man's Blood, and struggling to get to my clan." Her words were clipped and fell like gunshots in the silent street.

"That's not fair," he contradicted. "Aphrodite used some mix of a blood binding spell and a love spell to control me. You know I would have helped you if I could have," he added earnestly.

Hot tears burned the back of her eyes but she refused to let them emerge. "After all these years and _that's_ all you can say?" She shook her head, angry and hurt that he didn't apologize for leaving her in Egypt after she opened up her heart to him. "Whatever. I'm done with you Loki." She turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm. Acting on instinct she threw him several meters down the street.

"Oh," she whispered. A part of her was appalled that she had just physically hurt a friend. That wasn't her intention. Then again, Loki was strong so it's not like she actually _hurt_ him. Plus, he probably deserved to get his ass kicked.

Loki climbed to his feet and stared at her with an indescribable expression. "You really aren't the Lenore I remember," he stated sadly.

She snorted. "Get used to it," she snapped as she started walking in the opposite direction.

A second later he popped in front of her. "Lenore, I want to help you. I know I haven't been there for you in the past but I'm here for you now."

Baring her teeth, she shoved him away. "I don't need any help! I'm perfectly okay, you stupid pagan!"

"You're hanging out with demons. You're feeding off humans. Way I hear it, you're even misusing your magic." He made a 'tsking' noise with his tongue. "You really don't sound 'okay, Lenore."

"Yeah, 'cause you're the expert on being 'okay'," she sorted derisively.

Loki pressed his lips tightly together again and then sighed. "Yeah, you know what? I'm not okay, either. And that's why I'm the perfect person to help you."

Before she could even say "What?" he had grabbed her arm and they teleported away. They landed in his living room and she stumbled as her world spun. "Lemme go," she muttered as she yanked her arm away from him and went to sit on the couch until she caught her bearings. Damn, she forgot what it was like to travel with Loki.

"Okay, now the first thing we need to do is get you off that human blood cold turkey," Loki decided out loud.

With a burst of energy, Lenore stood up and stared him down. "Excuse me, but I never said you had any right to do anything for me. Also? I only drink the blood of _evil_ humans. There's a difference." Her conscience shouted at her then, but she waved it away. That girl had just been an irregularity.

Loki grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "No, there's not! Lenore can't you see? First it was demonic massacres. Then it was drinking evil humans. Today? Today someone made you mad – not a murderer and not a rapist, just made some sniveling and frightened brat on the street – and you know what you did? You're thought, 'Hey, she deserves to be eaten' and then you gnawed on her like a chew toy."

Lenore blinked back tears as her body tensed under his serious and angry tone. "No, it's not like that," she contradicted – but it sounded petulant to even her own ears. "That girl, she was going to die anyways. Besides, she was just some street kid, who's going to miss her?"

"You know I'm right," Loki stated as he released her. "What you did was wrong and if you did it once today you're going to do it again tomorrow."

Pausing thoughtfully, she questioned him. "So what if you are right? When you think about it, does it really matter in the end if I kill evil or innocent humans? After all, they all die eventually. Maybe it's even fate that I kill someone good who in the future gives birth to an evil kid, like baby Hitler! Not to mention, no matter what I do I'll never get into Heaven. So what's the point of trying?" she asked him in a tired voice.

Loki's expression softened and he sighed as he sat down. "Lenore, I'm not going to lie to you. Humans die. It's a fact of life. But you have to look within your own heart and decide if you're okay playing judge, jury, and executioner to those sheep living out there. Are you okay with that blood on your hands? The Lenore I used to know would abhor that. She thought that the purpose of life was to be good and help others; that we were all connected somehow and should bring positivity into each others' lives."

Lenore sat in silence and laid her head in her open palms. "But it tastes sooo good," she muttered. "And I help people by killing the bad ones."

Loki snorted. "Uh, yeah," he said stupidly. "Of course it tastes good. Doesn't mean it's right. I mean, there's this troubadour that performs with a caravan in England that I like to listen to – not that he's any good. He's not, at all. But I still find his damn songs impossibly catchy."

His words brought out a small laugh. "So you're saying drinking blood is as bad as a boy band?" she cracked wryly.

"I got no idea what a 'boy band' is but probably, yeah," he smirked.

Lenore was silent as she went over his words but eventually she shook her head. "I'm sorry Loki," she said as she stood up. "I understand your reasoning but I think it's faulty compared to mine. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to snap me back."

"Uh, no," he rolled his eyes. "You're staying here."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Like hell I am! There's nothing even bloody wrong with me!" He didn't move. "Fine!" she shouted. "I'll just walk home!" Her hand gripped the front door and, although she intended to slam it open, it didn't budge. Lenore pivoted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Open the damn door, Loki."

"Uh, noooo. You're under house arrest until your little intervention is over."

She telekinetically grabbed his favorite painting, next to the bookcase, and threw it into the fireplace. "Oh yeah? Well I'm a powerful witch and I'll destroy your entire house."

"By Thor's Hammer, you're annoying," he muttered as he snapped his fingers and the painting went back on the wall, in its previous condition. Then he stepped up to her and pressed his fingers against her temple.

Shoving him away, she stared at him crossly. "What the hell did you d—"

But even as she was talking she felt warm energy flow out of her and then something slammed down on the part of her that she used to tap into the earth's magic. "What the hell did you do?" she mumbled, aghast.

"Took away your magic. No magic during the time out." Loki spoke to her like she was a child and she hated him for it. Even more, she despised him for taking her magic away.

"You can't take that! It's a part of me!" she cried out furiously.

"Oh don't worry," he rolled his eyes. "I just cancelled out your ability to tap into it for now. It's not gone forever."

"Although," he added seriously, "I'm sure the earth will thank me for it. You reek of power, Lenore, and not in a good way. You've been abusing your connection to the earth."

"No I haven't!" she contradicted him. "I just use it to help me. You know, since my 'best friend' the pagan god ran off and left me alone."

Guilt ran across his face, replaced with anger. "You know what? We're done for tonight. Go to your room." Then he snapped his fingers and she was back in her old room, locked in.

That sneaky bastard.

_

* * *

_

_Reine, Norway  
November 3, 1886_

Locked away in her bedroom with only animals snapped in to feed her, Lenore was screaming and shivering and shaking. She screamed at Loki to release her, she shivered when she drank the animal blood, and she shook when her body protested at the fact that the blood wasn't human. The _Need_ howled in agony and demanded to be satisfied. She had been drinking human blood for sixteen years now and her entire body _craved_ it. The feeling was nothing like when she was a young vampire who just escaped from the Alpha's clutches and was going through minor withdrawls – this was something so much worse.

She would throw herself into the walls in an attempt to break free, which would end up breaking several bones in the process. But Lenore didn't care. The Need hurt worse than anything physical she had ever experienced. When that didn't work she started breaking everything in the room and ripping every piece of clothing, rug, and tapestry. Frustratingly, after each time she tore apart the room everything would suddenly go back to the way it was – a spell of Loki's, she was sure.

When she wasn't unleashing her anger she would be passed out on the bed or the floor hallucinating and dreaming of days gone by – hundreds of memories from her two-hundred and fourteen years on this planet.

_

* * *

_

_Liberton, Scotland  
July 20, 1678 _

She was six years old and the hot July sun beat down mercilessly on the crowd gathered around the gallows. Lenore clung to her older older brother Fergus, who was seventeen and so tall her neck hurt to look at him. "What are they doing to that man?" she whispered as she tugged on his shirt. Someone was placing a bag over a plump man's head and she didn't understand why.

Giving her a grim look, Fergus replied. "He was a bad man, Len. He killed the O'Reilly family"

Her rosy lips pursed in puzzlement. "What does 'killed' mean?"

Fergus sighed and knelt so his voice wouldn't carry. "To kill someone means you take their life. It means they leave this world and can never come back."

Lenore's young mind couldn't understand. "But why can't they come back?"

Fergus shrugged. "Because they're dead, Len," he told her gently. "When a person dies their soul leaves this world and their family and friends won't see them on earth ever again. That's why killing is wrong. This man killed the O'Reilly family and took them away from this world against their will. That was evil of him and now he must be punished before he can do it again."

Lenore felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She had liked Frederick O'Reilly, their youngest son. Only a year younger than her, he had been her friend. And now she would never see him again? She sniffled. This was awful!

"I hate people who kill," she decided adamantly as she thought of Frederick. "They're evil."

_

* * *

_

_Lair of the Order of Aurelius  
Belfast, Ireland  
April 12, 1702_

Two of Aurelius' strongest vampires, Emmanuel and Aidan, held her down as another vampire, Rebecca, forced a struggling human to her lips. "No! I won't feed!" Lenore shouted. Every time she needed to feed this is what they did to her – held her down and force fed her. Lenore _hated_ it with every fiber of her being. The sight of these poor, struggling humans – something that she had been just a year ago – filled her with compassion. But then Rebecca would force the blood down her throat and Lenore had no choice but to drink.

This time the girl, an emaciated child of only thirteen year, stared at her in fright. Unlike the others the child wasn't screaming or even crying. It was almost like she was shocked into silence. But her eyes! They were the bright green of a blade of grass soaked in sunlight and they _moved_ her. This girl was one of innocence and hope. Her eyes _pleaded_ with Lenore to save her, to do anything!

But Lenore was powerless agains the three older vampires. As Rebecca cut open the girl's wrist and held open Lenore's jaws so the dripping blood with slip down her throat, Lenore begged the girl silently to forgive her. The child closed her eyes and looked away, knowing that she would find no savior today, only monsters in human form.

* * *

_Sydney, Australia  
January 12, 1708_

Lenore walked hand in hand with Loki through the bustling marketplace. The scent of human blood was filling her nose and only by clenching Loki's hand was she able to refrain from losing it.

"There you go," he said in a supportive voice. "You're doing pretty good for your first time being around humans."

She shook her head, her entire body shaking from exposure to the enticing smells. "N-No, L-Loki," she stuttered as she fought to take control over her body. It was like her entire being was _screaming_ at her to leap into the crowd and pluck a human away. She would be quick. No one would see. "Let's go home now, please."

Loki gently squeezed her hand. "You can do this. I believe in you Lenore."

There was something about his words and tone that made her look up into his amber eyes that were ablaze with sincerity. Her breath caught in her throat and she gave him a light kiss on the cheek in sudden thanks. "Okay." She took in a deep breath. "I can do this," she told herself.

_

* * *

_

Istanbul, Turkey  
September 1, 1882

Garbed in a long skirt, a midriff-baring top, and dozens of clinking gold pieces of jewelry, Lenore danced seductively to the pulsating music that vibrated through the room and within her very soul. Her movements became quicker and quicker as her hips jutted and rotated, the clash of her bracelets and anklets providing the soprano to the horn's alto. She observed her prey under a blue veil, her lips curving into a smile as he watched her with a wanton look. Eventually she danced closer and closer to him, until she was close enough to purr, "Would you like a private show, my lord?"

His wide lips had widened into a smile and he quickly took her to a back room. She almost thought about toying with him some more but the Need was suddenly upon her and she eagerly bit into him. He moaned at first, thinking she was seducing him, but soon his moans turned into frightened panting and weak yells. When he was dead and she was satisfied, she dopped him on the ground.

Then her ears picked up a quiet sound, like someone hyperventialting but trying to be quiet about it. Lenore walked around the room and found a young boy of ten years behind a desk. He stared at her with fear and she sighed. "Don't cry little one. That man was evil and killed his banking partner. He is no loss to the world."

The boy's deep brown eyes widened. "Th-that was m-my daddy!" he sobbed quietly. "You killed my daddy!"

Lenore flinched slightly at the accusation. She supposed she had never thought about the family members of her victims. "I'm sorry but your father was a bad man, little one."

"Not to me!" he protested in indigation before he once again reined in control of his emotions, clearly fearful she would eat him too.

Lenore left that night with that boy's tear-filled brown eyes haunting her for a long time.

* * *

Lenore continued to dream but this time it wasn't a memory. She was in a small flat that was over an inn. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace and seven people, two adults and five children, sat huddled around a table eating supper. Lenore looked closer at the humans but she couldn't identify them.

"This is my family," a voice said. Lenore turned and gasped in surprise. Stringy blond hair, a threadbare dress, and two vicious bleeding wounds – it was the girl from the alley!

"Why did you do it?" the girl whispered. "I didn't deserve to die, did I?" she asked a sorrow laden voice.

Shocked, Lenore stepped back. "Well, you, you see…" She struggled to find the words but couldn't when confronted with her victim.

"What?" the girl asked softly. "Just because I would die some day meant that it may as well be today?" A pale hand gestured towards her family. "They loved me. I made mistakes, yes. But they loved me. When they hear about my death…"

A knock sounded at the door and the father went to answer it. A uniformed man began speaking with a grave look on his face. Suddenly the mother was wailing, the father was struggling to console her while tears of his own leaked out of his eyes, and the children were begging for answers on what was the matter.

Lenore glanced at the girl, her…victim, and swallowed heavily. The girl's eyes were red-rimmed and she held her bleeding neck painfully. "They didn't even have enough money for a proper burial," she whispered. Sharp blue eyes pierced Lenore's very heart. "All because of _you_."

Lenore awoke, shaking violently from her dreams, each one of them as vivid as day. "Oh God," she whimpered. "I need help."

* * *

A/N:

Many thanks to everyone for the reviews! Every author gets giddy with excitement when they see that the readers have questions and speculations – and I am no exception! ;D So thank you!

_References_:  
*Nosferatu is thought to be the Romanian word for vampire, made popular by Bram Stroker's 'Dracula': .org/wiki/Nosferatu_(word)  
*Sydney, Australia, January 12, 1708- this scene of Loki and Lenore in the marketplace was referred to in Chapter 12 "The Spark of the Sun"; the first time she was around humans as a vampire (besides her family)


	31. ConfessionalOR 'The Shovel Speech'

**Confessional...OR 'The Shovel Speech'**

_Upper Alaska near the Colville River,  
May 1, 1860_

Bodies of her brethren were strewn carelessly over the land, their blood turning the snow a soft pink. Fergus' demons had successively killed all of Bilquis' troops, as he had promised, and now her enemies were dust and corpses. After Lenore got off of Bilquis' heartless dead body she scanned the area for signs of movement and immediately set off to help her clan members. Eli was closest and nearing unconsciousness from the amount of blood he was losing from his shoulder wound. Tears stung her eyes at the realization of how she had almost lost one of the most important people in her life – her one constant companion since 1745. She used magic and the shirt of a dead vampire to patch him up as quickly as possible before she set off for the others.

By the dawn's rising light she had found only twenty of her clan members still alive – out of one-hundred and seventy. So many had been murdered and her soul cringed in agony at the thought that they were all gone…because of her foolishness. Not even all of her Council members made it; Jae, Mona, Alka, Esti, Maria, and Patience were all found dead. Déshèng was found clinging to Alka's body; as her Maker he was inconsolable. Abdul's face was wiped clean of his typical genial expressions; now his face was stony and cold as he carried his mate Mona to the funeral pyre.

And Maria…oh god, her lovely Maria. She had been a part of Lenore's life at a key point and they had loved each other so much then. To have her light extinguished? The sight of her head more than fifty feet away from her body was burned into Lenore's mind forever.

She couldn't believe how few of them were left. The only members of the Council still alive, besides her, were Eli, Abdul, Zuna, Déshèng, and the ancient Kitra. The other fifteen ranged from newer members of their clan to some who had been around for decades. However, in spite of all their differences they did have one thing in common.

They hated her.

"It is your fault!" Déshèng shouted, his hands balled into fists of anger. "You left us! You know we relied on your leadership and magic, and you left us! My Alka is dead now thanks to you!"

"My God, Déshèng. I am truly sorry…for everything. I was captured and tortured in England, otherwise I swear to you I would have come sooner," Lenore tried to explain. The guilt weighed in her like a brick and she hated herself at the moment.

"You promised us we would be safe," a younger vampire, Katerina, cried out. "Now my Maker and my mate are both dead!"

"We should have never started on this foolish mission to stop drinking human blood," Igor, a Romanian vampire of three-hundred years griped as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He had lost all of his friends that he had entered into the clan with.

Over and over again they berated her lack of foresight and her foolish decisions. What could Lenore do but take it? Thanks to her people that they had loved were dead. There was nothing she could do to make this better.

Eventually the fateful words were spoken. "You should leave this clan, Lenore. You are a disgrace." Déshèng's words fell like icicles and she shivered at his tone.

"There is nothing I can do to make this better, but I want to try. We can regroup, maybe head someplace warm like the Congo where there's plenty of game—"

"No, Lenore," Abdul interrupted her. She looked at him in surprise and saw a grieving expression set on his face as he ran his hands through his long beard. "I am sorry, but the trust is broken."

Lenore was shocked into silence as more of the clan members began offering their support to Déshèng. Abdul was the most compassionate of them all and for _him_to want her gone…?

"And you, Kitra?" Lenore asked the two-thousand year old vampire.

Kitra frowned, the smooth lines of her once thirteen-year old face wrinkling in concern. "I do believe last night was a sign from God," she began carefully. "Perhaps it was wrong of us to congregate in such a large group." She sighed. "You all may do as you please, but I think it is time that I reenter the world alone."

"Eli? What about you?" Lenore asked apprehensively.

For the longest time her just stared at his shoes. By the time he finally looked up she was almost shaking from nervousness. What if her Eli rejected her? "I…I think you should stay, Lenore." She sighed in relief but then…when she really looked into his eyes she saw the truth. Eli blamed her for this, just as everyone else had. Perhaps it was loyalty that made him side with her but she could tell he didn't want her.

None of them wanted her.

She left that night and never looked back. To push back her tears Lenore forced her heart to become cold and uncaring when it came to them so she wouldn't feel so hurt. In fact, it really was just easier to not care about anyone, she realized. If anything, she would just focus on getting her revenge on Angelus, Darla, and Aphrodite – and while she was at it, any demon that got in her way.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
December 15, 1886_

She honestly didn't know how Loki dealt with her.

If she wasn't crying hysterically from withdrawal then she was berating him and breaking things in his home. If she wasn't doing either of those things then she was shaking and experiencing lucid dreams.

Lenore was aware that for many of her clan's converts it had been very hard for them in the beginning. Like her, they experienced a degree of withdrawal. At the time Lenore had been supportive and talked them through it, but now that she was dealing with it? By God, it sucked.

Sucked, sucked, sucked.

Angrily, she began banging on the low register keys of the grand piano Loki kept in his entertainment room. She let out a noise of frustration as the piano went "Dum dum DUUUUUUUM" as she held down the lowest key.

"Keep that up and I can see ya goin' places, kid," Loki announced cheekily as he sat in an armchair across from the piano. "Talent like that is hard to find."

She tossed him a dirty look and purposefully continued drumming on the piano keys. Lenore had never been interested in learning a musical instrument before so she had no idea what she was doing other than making delightfully annoying noises for her prison guard.

Loki smirked and snapped his fingers. Suddenly her hands had a mind of their own and began playing Beethoven's 'Für Elise', a hauntingly beautiful song published recently in 1867. She let out an exasperated sigh at his shenanigans but bit back a curse when she found herself enjoying the soft melody. When she was done with that he snapped his fingers again and she was onto another Beethoven melody that was soft and slow; 'Moonlight'. As she continued playing she flashed back to the first time she heard this song at a wealthy nobleman's ball in Austria – where she had killed his son, a man known for raping servant girls.

Tears began falling from her cheeks but her hands wouldn't stop playing this horrible, horrible song. "Loki!" she cried out shakily. "St-stop!"

Immediately he stopped and was at her side on the piano bench. "Lenore, what's wrong?"

She just shook her head in response and leaned heavily against the piano as her shoulders shook with every sob. God, that night was flashing through her mind with such vitality. Her seducing the nobleman's son, her feeding, the thick taste of his blood in her mouth, his frozen dead eyes staring back at her…

A warm hand rubbed her back consolingly. "It'll help if you talk about it."

Lenore shook her head. No, it _wouldn't_. She didn't want Loki to know that side of her and just how far she had fallen. Since Loki had taken her in almost two months ago Lenore had spent most of the time just screaming at him to let her go or remaining silent.

Not to mention, Lenore was afraid to talk to Loki…because all she _really_ wanted to ask was why he didn't love her…but she supposed she had a good thing going her. Lenore knew that she needed help and was realizing that she had to stop drinking from humans. Right now Loki was the only one she had to help her and she couldn't lose that.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
December 31, 1886_

Lenore was laying on the bear skin rug in front of the fireplace sketching on some paper Loki had given her. When she was held captive by Aurelius this activity was the only one that gave her some sense of self and sanity, particularly when she sketched her red-haired dream woman. Now it was helping her heal once again. This time her muse had her focusing on other subjects than just Willow. Many of the sketchings were of her own past murderous attempts (those she made a show of burning in the fireplace) and others were the people she loved in her life: her long-gone children, Fergus (in all his various meat suits, including the original), Elspeth, Loki, Kali, Eli, Maria, and even Anyanka.

Of course, on her 'bad days' she would also sketch violent bloody pictures of what she planned on doing to Angelus and Darla, as well as sketches that recreated Aphrodite and Bilquis' death scenes. However, she tried to hide those from Loki – otherwise he would just try to get her thinking about her stupid _feelings_again. Ugh.

A pounding came from the door and Lenore looked up in alarm. Loki didn't get many visitors and he certainly hadn't since she came to stay with him. He came walking out of the entertainment room with an annoyed expression. "We don't want any damn Girl Scout cookies!" he shouted.

Sometimes Lenore wondered how he knew about things from the future. She knew she told him a lot during her years living with him but she couldn't remember mentioning Girl Scout cookies.

"Loki! Let us in, right now!" Anyanka's determined voice came through the door.

Loki shot her a look. "Did you message them somehow?"

She just sat up and shrugged. "No." Then she smiled in anticipation. Lock-down with Loki was certainly _not_fun and she was looking forward to seeing Anyanka and, she assumed, Fergus, again.

Growling in irritation, Loki opened up the door. Some snow blew in and Anyanka pushed past him, followed closely by Fergus. "Honestly Lenore, we've been trying to find you for weeks. Tonight is D'Hoffryn's New Year's Eve Bash in Rio. What the hell are you doing here?" Anyanka asked.

Lenore stood up, feeling suddenly self-conscious in her ugly (but comfortable) house dress with her hair dirty and unkempt. "Today's New Year's Eve already?"

"Yes, it is," Fergus answered, his eyes never leaving Loki's. "When we couldn't find you I thought you might be here with this bastard. Good thing Anyanka knew the way." His voice was cool and he was staring at Loki with loathing.

"Bastard?" Loki repeated with an edge to his voice. "And just who the hell are you, you black smoke scumbag?"

Fergus bristled. "Crowley." Then a sly smirk wove its way onto his face.

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Crowley." He turned to Lenore. "So this is the guy I've been hearing rumors about? Anyanka and Crowley are the two demons you're sleeping with and going on killing sprees with?"

"Wh-what?" Lenore sputtered in shock while Fergus had an amused look on his face.

Anyanka, of course, reacted in typical fashion. "Don't be a moron, Loki. While Lenore is good-looking and sure, if maybe I swung that way – not that I didn't for a couple decades with this Thai demon chick who, lemme tell ya, was double-jointed in all the best ways – but anywho, long story short, Lenore's not our orgasm friend. Although we do have the occasional killing spree together."

"Loki," Lenore started laughing. "You really thought I was in some kinky threesome?"

"Well…yeah! I mean, that's what the underworld was saying – that you two are the whores to the King of the Crossroad Demons."

"WHAT?" Lenore and Anyanka shouted out at once.

Fergus gave them a charming smile and raised his eyebrows innocently. "What? I cannot be blamed if perhaps it's easier for my people to think I just enjoy wanton sex with beautiful ladies instead of, you know, _socializing_with those below my class."

Anyanka smacked him so hard a regular's man cheekbone would have broke. "Below you? Lemme tell you right now, Mr. King of the Jackasses, I've been around for almost a thousand years selling more vengeance than you could dream of. If anything _I've_ lowered _my_standards!"

Fergus sighed and took Anyanka's flailing hands with a repentant look on his face. "Darling, you know _I_don't think of it that way. You're clearly a goddess when it comes to demonic sales. Unfortunately the fellas downstairs can be right racist when it comes to working with the other types of demons." His fingers caressed Anyanka's cheek as he spoke and she softened slightly at the touch.

That was Fergus all right – a damn charmer and a half.

"Well, fine," she said haughtily. "You just better get me a damn nice make-up present."

He whispered something in her ear and she giggled.

Loki cleared his throat. "Okay, now that you've seen her, I need you to leave. This is a very sensitive time for Lenore."

Anyanka gave her a skeptical look. "Why? Has she forgotten how to use a bathtub?"

Lenore rolled her eyes and self-conciously ran her hands through her unwashed hair. "No…"

"She's probably having a bad time of it because she's here with you," Fergus pointed out sharply as he pointed at Loki. "C'mon luv," he said to Lenore. "Pack up your things and I'll take you back home."

"Listen muttonhead, King of whatever, or not, I don't give a damn who you are, but you're not taking Lenore. She needs to stay here." He paused. "And what's wrong with being with me?"

"Oh for the love of D'Hoffryn, don't get into it, Loki. The entire time here all I've heard is whiny britches ranting on and on and on," Anyanka bemoaned.

"You want to know what my problem is?" Fergus said to Loki in a low voice. "First off, YOU CUT MY FUCKING PENIS OFF! Second of, you broke my BABY SISTER'S HEART. So how about you let me take her home before I SHOVE A FUCKING STAKE THROUGH YOUR HEART."

Lenore clapped a hand to her mouth and Anyanka just stared in shock at the seething demon. Loki appeared like he didn't know if he wanted to retaliate violently or start laughing.

"Hold on…you're Fergus? Lenore's brother that traded his soul?" Loki asked with a slow smirk that began twisting onto his face.

Fergus just stared in hatred.

"Oh…that is…" Loki glanced at Lenore and back at Fergus before he started laughing. "Too funny! Oh wow, I almost forgot about that; that was a good trick."

"I didn't realize that! Although, it does make sense why you never tried to have crazy monkey sex with Lenore like most other people you associate with," Anyanka mused.

"Nothing about this is goddamn funny," Fergus said coolly to Loki. "That or the way you've treated Lenore."

"I treat Lenore just fine!" Loki protested. "I've been taking care of her for years."

Her heart plummeted at the way he phased that...'taking care of her'…by God, was she just a chore to him? Clearly he didn't see them as equals. No wonder he didn't love her back.

Fergus snorted. "Right. Like how you left her in Egypt or that time you ignored her for some blond bimbo?"

"Hey, I—"

"Stop!" Lenore commanded before things got out of hand. Her entire body was itching to get _out_of here and away with everyone. "Fergus, I appreciate the concern, but just drop it, okay? You too, Loki."

Fergus sneered at Loki but otherwise nodded at her request. "Fine, but let's get a move on before all the good party favors are gone."

_Party favors._She knew what that meant. Humans. Creatures just bursting with thick delicious blood waiting for her…

Lenore shook her head. She had to get a hold of herself! This…addicion…was ruining her. She knew this. Logically, anyways. But every cell in her body screamed contrary to that concept. Her body wanted human blood.

She took in a deep breath and forced the next words to come tumbling out of her mouth. "I have to stay here."

"Why? Because this pagan said so?" Fergus asked incredulously as Loki crossed his arms and shot the demon a dirty look.

"No…because I need to. I've fallen. Fallen far." Her eyes averted from her friends. "It's taken some time to realize it but I need to stop drinking from humans. In fact, probably stop killing altogether, both humans and demons."

Fergus and Anyanka's faces carried dumbfounded expressions; however Loki was beaming with pride. Surprisingly – or not – that made her feel a whole lot better suddenly.

"Lenore, come on!" Fergus scoffed. "Don't get all good-do-ery now! We've been having fun for so long," He was scowling but there was another emotion in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher. Was he…hurt?

"True. You are much more enjoyable to spend time as a more 'yay killing' vampire than your old self," Anyanka acknowledged with a nod.

Lenore bit her bottom lip and walked over to them, a nervous hand running through her hair. "These past thirty years spending more time with you Fergus – and you, Anyanka – have been great in a lot of ways." She took Fergus' hand as he stared at her curiously. "I've really, really missed you, Fergus. And yeah, I know, evil demon and blah blah, but I still love you." She sighed. "But recently I've realized that I don't like the person I've become."

"Rubbish," Fergus snorted. "You're a fantastic person. Like I said before, nothing wrong with sucking down some evil humans who deserve it."

"But that's just it!" she cried out as she felt her emotions surge. "I fed off a _girl_. An innocent girl that one minute I was saving and the next minute I was murdering!" She swallowed heavily and pushed back the images of the girl's family from her dream/hallucinations, or whatever that was.

"Len," Fergus began patiently as Anyanka, always bored when things weren't about her, sat down and began filing her nails. "One little girl shouldn't change anything. Besides, all humans die eventually. And if you count all the humans you've saved, you're still ahead in numbers." He shrugged. "What does it matter?"

Lenore's eyes clenched shut. She loved her brother. She did. But she knew he was…hell, he wasn't even morally ambiguous. He was evil. He sent souls to Hell. Evil or innocent, it didn't matter to him. She knew that he loved her, in his own twisted way somehow, but she realized that she shouldn't necessarily spend so much time with him.

"It matters to _me_," Lenore said softly. "I'm not God. I don't deserve to decide death for others."

Fergus stared at her for a long time. "Well, then, I suppose they'll be no convincing you. I recognize that stubborn look."

She smiled in spite of it all. "Yeah," she whispered.

"Alright Anyanka, let's get going," Fergus said graciously as he held his arm out. She sighed haughtily at the implication of an 'order' but got up nonetheless.

"See ya Lenore. If you're ever down for a massacre or know of a woman jilted by love, just say my incantation!" Anyanka told her brightly.

"Thanks," Lenore smiled. "Bye Fergus."

He kissed Lenore's forehead. "Farewell, Len." Then his eyes narrowed at Loki. "Fuck this up again and it'll be your arse, Trickster. I'll stick an entire tree through your miserable body." Before Loki could reply the two demons had disappeared.

"I forgot what a dick your brother was," Loki groused.

Lenore shrugged. She had nothing to say on the matter. In fact, more than ever she didn't want to talk at all. Realizing that changing her lifestyle meant spending less time with her brother and Anyanka (who she really was quite fond of – the demon reminded her so much of Sunnydale) was quite the downer.

"So hey! Since it is New Year's Eve, wanna stay up and we can have our own lil party? I'll invite the wolf pack, make some fireworks, and snacks?" Loki asked with a sunny smile.

His offer was tempting…but Lenore knew better than to tempt fate. At midnight there'd probably be an awkward maybe-kiss moment on account of tradition. Or, maybe not – and then she would furiously be wondering why he didn't want to kiss her. No, it was good to just have Loki as her own personal rehab director.

"No, thanks. I'm tired. Think I'll head to bed," she told him. When his face fell she _almost_ reconsidered…but no. She just really needed 1) to get over her addition and 2) get over Loki.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
March 1, 1887_

Life was getting easier.

Of course, she certainly wasn't prepared to go anywhere that humans congregated but her mood swings were minimal and lots of meditation and hiking around and over the mountain was helping her. She had even sucked it up and started confiding in Loki again. By this point he knew how Eli and the others had rejected her and she told him many of her escapades afterward she left them. However, they never spoke of personal things between them. Besides those conversations about her past thirty years Lenore typically avoided him.

It helped that she enjoyed this wolf pack. Almost two-hundred years have passed since she used to run and hunt with Tyr and Thordis' pack. Since then she had become friendly with other wolves in her travels (since after they drank their meals her clan members always left the bodies out for the wolves and other local predators). Yet there was something special about becoming 'part' of a pack again.

Right now she was laying on her side with one pup trying to nose around her chest, apparently looking for milk, while the other twelve wolves lounged around her. "Stop it, Sigvard," she giggled as she batted the confused pup away.

"Looks like Sigvard's got good taste in women," Loki remarked as he emerged from the forest into their clearing.

"Yes, my self-esteem is sky-rocketing," she replied dryly.

Loki smirked and ruffled the hair of the alpha male wolf. "What's up, Victorinus? You get the little missus knocked up yet?"

The 'little missus' in question, the alpha female Tuija, growled at Loki while Victorinus replied with a sharp bark.

"Geez, okay guys. I'm not trying to jinx ya," Loki said in surrender with his arms raised.

"Go ahead, Tuija, bite him," Lenore stated with a grin. "I think you have that right." Tuija just gave her a wolfy grin and then playfully tackled Loki.

"Way to go, Lenore!" Loki griped as he and Tuija began rolling around.

Lenore grinned. She had missed this. A lot. Especially because the others wolves she met weren't as easy to communicate with as the pack that lived in Loki's forest. She wondered if these wolves were descended from his son Fenrir and that was why they could understand her.

"So, Lenore," Loki said once his wrestling match was complete. "What do you think about checking out the village marketplace tomorrow morning?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Loki, _no_. I'm finally at the point where I have a grip on things. I'm not going to ruin that by dangling a bloody steak in my face." At the word 'steak' all the wolves' ears pricked up.

"You know how people build muscle?" Loki asked casually. "They push their muscles to the extreme each day. First five pounds, then ten, then fifteen – pushing their boundaries every day until finally their muscles are strong enough."

"I don't want to be a bodybuilder, Loki."

He sighed in exasperation. "You _know_what I mean. Brat."

She rolled her eyes. "No thank you."

"C'mon. For me? Please?" he begged with a charming smile.

Dammit. She hated that stupid sparkle in his eye and his stupid smile. It made her fall for anything. "Fine," she sighed.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
March 20, 1887_

Happy Spring Equinox!" Loki belted out as he burst into the living room.

Slightly irritated that he had interrupted her reading, Lenore marked her place and looked up at him. "Happy Spring Equinox," she replied. "Let me guess – you have some pagan party?" Loki had not left since she had arrived here but she knew that the equinoxes and solstices were major party days for the gods. Idly she wondered if Eostre was hosting again this year.

"Nope!" he said as he plopped into the seat next to her on the couch. "Just staying in today."

"Loki, you don't have to worry about me running away anymore. I'll be fine. Go do your party thing," she motioned towards the door.

"Nah," he shrugged. "Those gossip queens really aren't that much fun. Besides I figured we could do something," he smiled brightly at her.

"Um, well I kinda have plans."

"With who?" he asked incredulously.

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, is it so unbelievable that I would be hanging out with someone besides you?" she asked accusingly.

"N-no. I'm just sayin', I didn't think you were hanging out with anyone nowadays," he quickly backpedaled.

"Well I am, sort of. Me and my buddy Jesus," she grinned.

Something like pain flashed in Loki's eyes. "Huh?"

She laughed. "It's Palm Sunday, silly. I'm just catching up on my reading," she explained as she held up a leather-bound Bible. Then she shrugged guiltily. "I kind of stopped…well, you know, really praying and all that after Alaska."

His expression was unfathomable. "Well, I'm glad Lenore. I know that was a big part of you." His words were slow and cautious, like it almost weirded him out to talk about this.

Which reminded her…she had snapped when Loki was trying to kill her under Aphrodite's orders and said that she knew he was an angel. Did he remember her saying that? Would he talk about it? Unless of course her theory was wrong and maybe Holy Oil also worked on pagans…? But no, because Kali would have told her that.

Loki started to leave but she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Speaking of…do you remember what I said to you when Aphrodite had her mojo working?"

"Uh, I don't know. You said a lot of things," he said very casually – which meant he was nervous if he was trying so hard to pretend he didn't care.

"I reminded you that you were an angel. And then you broke her spell."

"Uh…woo. Don't remember that. You musta got your head smacked a 'lil too hard," he said with a smile. But she knew him. He was lying.

"I've tried to respect your privacy, Loki, but I'm tired of secrets. You know you can tell me anything."

His gaze softened. "I know that," he sighed. "And I appreciate it."

She waited for him to elaborate but he remained silent. "Loki! I know you're an angel!"

"Honey, please. Do I look like an angel to you? I mean, sure, sometimes I get called 'Oh my God!' in the bedroom, but that's about it."

Lenore's lips pressed together in sheer annoyance. "When those demons trapped you on the mountain it was with Holy Oil."

He stared at her in shock; his lips parted in an 'O' and his amber eyes wider than an owl's. "Lenore, trust me, I'm no angel."

Furious, she set the Bible down (gently, because it _was_the Bible and she was trying to get on God's good side again), placed her hands on her hips, and stared down at Loki. "My god! I have been nothing but a good, loyal friend to you, always telling you about my secrets, and you don't even trust in me enough to confide? So glad to know where I stand," she stated hotly as she proceeded to leave the room.

"Whoa! Lenore, just stop," Loki called as he ran over and cut her off. "You know I trust you and love you. You're the one person on this stupid planet that matters the most to me. I just don't want to burden you."

"Loki, you have to understand that I'm not the same mousy little vampire you dragged into your home back in 1703. I've lived a long time – sure," she cut him off when she saw his mouth open, "not as long as you but long enough to experience some of the best and worst moments that life can throw at you. You don't have to protect me."

Amber eyes quickly turned away from her and his jaw clenched. "Yes, I do. I've always been meant to protect you."

Lenore rolled her eyes at his macho attitude before she mentally re-listened to his words. "What do you mean by that?"

His sighed and looked into her eyes, his own awash with guilt and regret. "You were assigned to me, Lenore. Before I ran away from Heaven."


	32. Revelations

**Revelations**

_Reine, Norway,  
March 20, 1887  
_

Amber eyes quickly turned away from her and his jaw clenched. "Yes, I do. I've always been meant to protect you."

Lenore rolled her eyes at his macho attitude before she mentally re-listened to his words. "What do you mean by that?"

His sighed and looked into her eyes, his own awash with guilt and regret. "You were assigned to me, Lenore. Before I ran away from Heaven."

Lenore's mind flooded with more thoughts than her vampire mind could handle at the moment. Assigned? Ran away from Heaven? Sure…she had come to the conclusion decades ago that Loki was probably an angel in disguise since Holy Oil had prevented him from leaving that circle, but she had never thought of the why or the what. And…assigned?

She observed him silently; his honey eyes awash with guilt, his body tense, and his always-present smile simply gone. This was a man that she had known almost her entire life – since she was twenty-seven years old in the year 1700. Lenore wasn't a fool – she knew that it was impossible to know everything about someone as old as Loki. But still…why was her stomach clenched as a feeling of dark foreboding took over her?

"What does that mean?" Lenore asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Loki paused before gesturing towards his couch. "Maybe we should sit down first," he stated awkwardly.

"No," she interrupted quickly. "Tell me, Loki. Now." The feeling of foreboding was only getting stronger the more that time went by.

"You're right – I am an angel," he sighed.

"So Loki isn't even your real name?" It was more a statement than a question; Lenore knew that if he really was an angel than Loki couldn't be his real name. Still, that didn't lessen the hurt that had she not confronted him, Loki never would have told her the truth about himself.

Loki looked towards the fireplace; an orange glow lit his morose features in a soft light. "They called me Gabriel."

A tiny gasp of air went through her. Lenore had been studying her religion for her whole life, especially this past century. "As in…the archangel?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "The one and only." Loki's voice flat and uncaring – clearly this was something he didn't necessarily want to talk about.

Well too damn bad.

"Why did you run away from Heaven?" No, no…that isn't what she really wanted to know. What she _really_wanted to know is what he meant by being 'assigned' to her but there was something telling Lenore that when he explained that she could never look at him the same again. It was childish but she almost wanted to slap her hands over her ears and hum loudly so she couldn't hear the truth.

"Heaven. Huh, yeah," he mumbled. "It's not quite what it's cracked up to be."

"It's not a good place?" she inquired in shock.

"What? No. No," he shook his head. "For the humans, sure. But for me it was just a reminder of how much things have changed. I mean, you know the story Lenore. God created his angels and then he created the humans…and my brother Lucifer rebelled because he couldn't stand Dad's new creations." A haunted look darkened his eyes as he spoke. "War ensued, we won but big bro got locked up tight below, and after a while Dad just disappeared – meaning that my brothers started to fight on how to rule Heaven without him. So I left."

Lenore blinked in surprise. She didn't quite know how to take his story. It was like reading your favorite book for a century and suddenly hearing undeniable evidence that it was all true – which was scary yet good and overall just overwhelming. Not to mention the obvious pain her best friend was clearly in. "Why did you just leave?"

He walked away from her but she didn't take it as a sign of rejection; she knew that Loki sometimes paced when he was nervous. "Years of my family killing each other and the threat of it happening again – because trust me, _I_know it will – was too much." Loki shook his head and his voice was raw with pain. "I couldn't bear to watch it anymore – to watch my family destroy themselves all over again."

Not knowing what to say, Lenore embraced him from behind and laid her head on his upper back. She held him tightly and pushed all the love she felt for Loki into it. Gabriel, Loki, she didn't care what his name was – her friend had obviously been carrying a large burden for a long time and he needed her right then. His hand swept up to cover her own hands around his neck and he squeezed softly in thanks.

Reluctantly, she pulled away and held her hands tightly in front of her. She didn't want to know – by God, she didn't – but she had to. "What do you mean you were assigned?"

Loki's expression crumbled. "Every archangel – me, Michael, and Raphael – was assigned a certain number of prophets. The information on these prophets was seared into our minds in the very beginning. You were supposed to be my charge."

"But…Castiel was my angel."

"Yeah." Loki sighed. "When I left you must have been assigned to Michael or Raphael…but then you used that potion to get your memories back sooner and your time as prophetess was quickened. I can only assume that Michael and Raphael had charges of their own at that time so you were reassigned."

"Wait," Lenore said. "I don't understand…" A part of Lenore didn't quite understand why Loki would feel so guilty about this. She supposed she could understand him leaving Heaven and, as a consequence, not being her guardian angel.

But then an old memory, back when she was still human, flashed through her mind.

_Castiel gifted her with a weak – very weak – smile. "But you see, I was not the one originally assigned to your case and therefore am inadequate to properly protect you. You were not scheduled to remember your past life until your thirty-third birthday."_

Lenore took a step back. "Scheduled?" She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her but Castiel continued, not noticing her negative reaction.

"Yes. You see, all prophets are placed under the care of an archangel. However, the other archangels already have charges that they are caring for and thus you fell to me. Throughout my existence I have served my Father faithfully and I have finally been awarded with the opportunity to protect the life of a human charge." Castiel sighed. "But I am unsure if I am powerful enough to protect you, Lenore – I am not as strong as my older brothers."

Lenore's eyes clenched shut as she felt a stab of betrayal run through her very soul. She had heard everything that Castiel had said, yes, but it was his first words that reverberated through her mind. "So I was not…scheduled…to remember anything until a certain age?"

Castiel looked at her in surprise, finally hearing the pain that laced her tone. "Why yes. Upon your thirty-third birthday one of the archangels, either Raphael or Michael, would have lifted the veil over your eyes and your memories would have returned." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Strange that the veil was lifted beforehand; powerful magic held it in place."

"Castiel wasn't powerful enough to protect me because he wasn't an archangel," Lenore whispered in a moment of revelation. She turn dark, accusatory eyes towards Loki. "Because he wasn't strong enough the Alpha's army came for me…turned me."

As everything sunk in she squeezed her eyes shut and summoned mental images of her human family. "I never got to be with my family again. Being a vampire took them from me." Lenore opened her eyes and found Loki gazing at her with remorse in his eyes. "_You_took them from me," she accused softly.

"Lenore, I never suspected that any of that would happen," he stated as he moved to grab her arm. "I'm so sorry."

She snatched her arm away and spoke in a louder and more firm voice. "Loki, if this is true then _you_were the one meant to protect me."

"But I did!" he cried out in a pleading voice plagued with regret and grief. "I've done what I could to help protect you, ever since I found out where the Alpha was keeping you!"

Lenore blinked back tears. "But you didn't protect me when it mattered. My children were _so_young when I died. They had to grow up with me – and I had to live without them!" The tears were now falling hotly down her cheeks like molten lava.

Loki grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cheek. "Lenore, I'm so sorry. I never thought the memory spell would interfere with my brothers' plan for you. I never meant for your life to end up like this." His face was pinched with pain and for maybe the first time in her life she saw Loki truly upset; his eyes glistened and his hand shook slightly as he held hers.

She pulled away from him like he was burning her. "Loki…I…I've had some amazing experiences in the last two centuries but I would give it all up if I could have had my children again. Even the memory of Willow pales in comparison to them. And my dreams! Do you know that over the years I've had to witness _each of my offspring die_through my dreams and visions? No mother should have to witness such a thing."

Lenore shook her head sadly. "I could deal with you being an angel. I could deal with you being an archangel who ran away from Heaven. But knowing that you're the reason why I'm _cursed_like this – a killer – I don't think I can, Loki." She glanced at the door. "Maybe I should go."

"Lenore, but I love you!" he blurted out.

His words stung and caused her even more pain. "How can you say that to me? And now?" Lenore smacked his chest in an angry burst of energy. "How dare you say that to me _now_, when I'm mad at you, instead of when I wanted to hear it, oh gee, maybe _thirty-five_years ago!"

"Because I knew! I knew that it's my fault what's happened to you! I knew you were my charge and I owed it to you to protect you – it isn't right that I should take advantage," he tried to explain.

"Take advantage? Oh! You stupid angel! You wouldn't have been taking advantage if I loved you."

Loki was quiet as he digested her words. "Maybe I didn't think I was good enough for you. It's my fault that you're cursed. Not to mention everything I love always goes to hell – literally sometimes."

Lenore took in a deep breath. She was still oh so very angry but she didn't feel like screaming anymore; now when she spoke it was in calm matter-of-fact tones that hid the anger within. "You lied to me – or withheld the truth or whatever – for centuries, Loki. _Centuries_. You've given me a lot in our friendship…but now I realize how much you took from me." She sighed. "Whether it was on purpose or not."

"I know," he said in a voice just as quiet as hers. "Maybe I should have told the truth. But Lenore…no one can know that I'm an angel. I thought about telling you a lot but I just could never bring myself to do it. I even almost told you that night in Egypt when I gave you that locket."

Lenore's eyes darted to meet his. "The locket?" Oh…oh god no.

"Yeah," he nodded. "When you asked me what it was made up of I almost told you the truth – that it was made with the smallest amount of my grace that I cut from myself."

"Your grace?" Lenore swallowed heavily. She knew that Loki had made it with part of himself….

"An angel is created out of pure grace – it's one of the most powerful substances in the world." He smiled. "I thought it would help protect you." Then a frown crossed his face. "I normally can feel it but years ago that feeling stopped – I figured that you were angry enough to perform some spell to block me."

"Um." Lenore bit her lip nervously. "Actually, I didn't."

Loki gave her an alarmed look. "Then why can't I feel it?"

"Remember when my people were being attacked in Alaska and I was trapped by Angel and Darla in England?" He nodded. "The only way I could get there and get back-up support was from my brother."

"The Crossroads Demon?" Loki inquired as his eyebrows shot straight into his hairline.

She nodded. "He said he needed something powerful to kick-start the magic and he didn't need my soul. But he knew my locket was powerful—"

"Lenore, are you stupid?" Loki shouted.

"It was the only way to save my people!" she bristled.

"You just gave a piece of my grace to a _fucking demon_," he spat. "Who knows what he'll do with it?"

"One, Fergus just knows it's powerful and it can kill demons – he doesn't realize it's the grace of an angel. Second," she added with hardened features, "perhaps if _you_ had told me the truth – or _hell_just had been my friend and helped that day – then I never would have given it to Fergus!"

"Oh, Lenore," Loki shook his head angrily as he threw an empty cup against the wall; Lenore flinched when it crashed. "Of all the damn _stupid_ things to do – giving a piece of an angel's grace to a _demon_." He let out a yell of frustration and kicked the wall.

"Well I didn't know!" she retorted angrily. "I had no other choice, Loki!"

"Oh sure," he scoffed. "Let's sacrifice some grace to a evil demon just to save some vampires."

Lenore froze in shock. "Some vampires? They were my _family_!"

"Family that turned on you," he snapped.

"Oh right! Because you, _Gabriel_, are the expert when it comes to family! At least I went back for mine and didn't run away!"

Loki flinched and his mouth set in an angry line. "You don't know anything about my family."

"Because you've never told me anything until today! Even though my brother is a demon at least I still try to maintain a relationship."

"Right," Loki said with a laugh. "A relationship? Please. He's a demon, Lenore. Evil. Wicked. Devoid of good. You just think you have a relationship. Trust me, Crowley – or _Fergus_- is just playing you. After all," he said with a nasty smile, "by hanging out with you he can get one of the most powerful items in the world for free!"

Lenore slapped him; surprising even herself with her violent move. Quickly Loki snatched her wrist and held her in place. "You don't know anything about _my_ family. I know Fergus is evil but he does love me. He's never betrayed me. The only one to betray me is _you_." She bit back a sob. "If it wasn't for you I would have lived a normal life and would be dead by now."

Loki was still holding her wrist when he pulled her close. "Then you can hate me all you want – I know I've done wrong by you – but a part of me doesn't regret what happened to you…because I can't imagine my life without you."

The sob left her lips at his words. "Don't. Please." She had been trying to make herself stop loving Loki for years ever since he left her. After his revelation today she found herself so angry with him…but she still loved him. She knew she shouldn't – at this point she wasn't sure how much she trusted him anymore.

His voice was low and it sent a shiver down her spine. "Don't what?" His lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers and her body yearned for him right then – stupid damn traitorous body.

"Don't…kiss me," Lenore answered softly.

"Like this?" Loki murmured as his lips grazed hers softly. The touch woke something primal in her and her hand was suddenly twisting in his hair.

"Yes…I'm angry with you." Her words were soft and without conviction, because even though she was furious with him she _wanted_this more than she wanted to fight with him.

Another brush of his lips. "I'm angry at you, too." A sly smirk that was quintessential 'Loki' crossed his face. "Sometimes sex is the most fun when you're angry."

She rolled her eyes slightly at his presumption but she couldn't say anything – because after all these years she wanted the exact same thing.

So she kissed him. And he kissed her back.

Everything else they could deal with afterwards.


	33. Blessed are the Merciful…

**Blessed are the Merciful…**

_Reine, Norway,  
March 21, 1887  
_

Loki's bedroom was dark. Thick maroon curtains hung over the magical window that typically displayed the world outside his cave embedded in the mountains. Lenore woke to find herself naked in Loki's arms; her back pressed against his chest and his arm wrapped tightly over her stomach. The four-poster canopy bed was made of rich cherry oak and the sheets were a deep blue color. The memories of their night together in bed brought a small smile to Lenore's face and she snuggled backwards against Loki.

She was surprised to realize he was awake when he let out a hiss of air. "You're bound to wake up all of me if you keep wiggling like that," he murmured into her ear.

"You mean like this?" she asked with a satisfied giggle as she increased her movements.

Loki flipped her around and began attacking her lips with the same ferocity he had displayed last night. Lenore groaned and lightly raked her nails down his back, smirking internally at Loki's shudder. "Merciful Odin, you're beautiful," he said as he began to massage her breasts.

Lenore's toes curled at the sensation and she grabbed a fistful of his hair in response.

"I should have done this years ago. I am a stupid, stupid creature." Loki laid light butterfly kisses across her neck and down her chest.

Lenore stiffened slightly as his words brought her back to reality – and the reality of all that was said last night. "Yes, you should have."

He looked up and gave her a forlorn expression. "I know. I'm an idiot." Loki began lightly caressing her breasts with his tongue. "I will make it up to you. Forever."

Loki's words…they meant the world to her…but now that she was thinking about everything she learned last night…well…

Lenore carefully pushed Loki off of her as she sat up. "Maybe we should talk."

With a dejected expression, he looked her naked body up and down. "Talk? But…can't we talk after?" he asked hopefully.

A small smile crossed her features at his reaction – he looked like a little boy waking up on Christmas morning just to find coal under the tree. "We need to eventually." She sighed. "The sooner the better."

Grimacing, he leaned back on the bed. "I'd rather avoid reality and live in my own world with just you, as you are, and this bed."

"Loki," she chided in a warning tone.

"Fine. Okay." He pursed his lips. "I've been thinking about it while you were sleeping and I have a plan."

Lenore raised a skeptical brow. "Do tell."

"I decided that I'm not mad at you anymore. You wouldn't be the person you are if you didn't do whatever it took to save the people you love; I understand why you exchanged my locket for Crowley's deal. So, you'll just get it back from him and then we'll be fine."

"_Then_we'll be fine?" Lenore scoffed. "Right, Loki. So glad we'll be fine then – guess me being angry at you doesn't even matter."

"Lenore." Loki let out a drawn out sigh. "I am perfectly aware that you're upset with me. But there's nothing I can do about it – I can't change the past. In lieu of that, I'm just going to do whatever it takes to make it up to you for the rest of our lives."

Lenore couldn't help but shiver at his phrasing - _the rest of our lives_. Is that what she wanted? To spend eternity with Loki?

…and yet…she couldn't help but wonder what would happen in a hundred years or so when Willow would be alive. Did she love Loki more than Willow? That was so hard to say. Willow was part of her soul but so much had changed…_she_had changed.

…and then there was Kali. The love for her goddess had diminished with age and her growing love for Loki, but Lenore suspected that a part of her would always love the woman who set her up onto her path.

"That may be true," Lenore said with a nod. "You can't change the past. But Loki, you have to understand the blow you dealt me. I was angry enough when Castiel first told me that the angels' plan for me was to awaken my past life's memories on my thirty-third birthday. It hurt to know that I was being used, almost like a tool. But to find out _you_have known about this all along? To know that, had you done things differently, my life would have carried out on its natural path?" She shook her head. "It's almost too much."

Loki grabbed her hands. "Lenore, you have to know how sorry I am about this. I know this life isn't one you ever wanted. I know how the bloodlust has hurt you."

Lenore winced. Being immortal could be tough as it was but to be ruled by a need for blood? And now, to just be recovering from killing humans and drinking their blood? She did indeed hate it.

"But think of all the good that has come out of it. You were able to start a revolution. You saved vampires from indulging in evil ways and you saved countless humans because of that. Your long life has been beneficial to the world," Loki stated earnestly.

Her eyes focused on the blue sheets; sheets she suddenly realized were the color of her eyes. Lenore wondered if that was a coincidence. "Maybe I have helped. But what about all the humans I killed for the last sixteen years? My life hasn't been beneficial to them."

"Lenore, I'm not going to say what you did wasn't wrong, but you just killed evil humans – besides, yes, your one mistake. And sixteen years compared to over one-hundred and fifty of doing good? And now you're recovering and willing to make amends for those deaths? It balances out – much more highly in your favor, by the way."

Lenore was quiet as she thought about his words. She knew he had a point but it didn't make her feel any better. And now she couldn't help but wonder how differently her life could have been. She could have raised Dawn, Elizabeth, and Alexander with Elspeth and Fergus and watched them grow up. As a burgeoning powerful witch perhaps she could even have gotten Fergus out of his Crossroads deal. Her children would have been happy and maybe her brother never would have become a demon. A wistful smile crossed her face as she imagined herself in a rocking chair holding her grandchildren and teaching them about magic.

_Oh God_. Her eyes shut tightly at the vivid mental image. As a vampire she could have everything she wanted in this world except for children. After the debacle with Drusilla, Lenore knew she even had to avoid her descendents from now on lest they get drawn into her supernatural battles again.

Not to mention her own kind didn't even want her anymore. Lenore had heard that Eli and the others had immigrated to America but they had never tried to contact her again. At this point in her life she was completely alone…except for Loki.

But now when she looked at him Lenore couldn't help but wonder 'what it?'

"Loki, I love you. But—"

"What? No. Not buts," he interjected.

"But now when I look at you I can't help but wonder 'what if?' What if I had lived? What if I had raised my children myself? What if I had been able to save my brother instead of being kept imprisoned by the Alpha?" Her face blanched at the thought of her Maker. "What if I had never been tortured and raped by Aurelius?" she added in a pained tone.

A dark look crossed his face. "I will kill him if he ever resurfaces."

She sighed. "As much as I appreciate your protective attitude, I will be the one to kill that menace. But that's not the point. The point is I need some time, Loki."

"But Lenore," he said with a hurt expression. "We're finally on the same page. I love you. You love me. You know the truth about who I really am. We should be together."

She nodded and brushed away a tear. "And someday I think I want that. But I can't just be with you and pretend that everything is normal."

Loki searched her face; then looking upset by whatever he found. "Okay. Time. We can do time." He cracked a smile. "We are immortal, after all. But…you'll come back to me…won't you?"

Lenore was silent. By all that was holy she loved Loki, she really did…but his betrayal cut something deep and as much as she enjoyed last night, she really didn't know what to think about him anymore. "I may be a seer in some ways, Loki, but not even I know what the future will bring for us."

He kissed her suddenly. It was earnest and pleading – desperate, in fact. Lenore felt the heat of his passion and it took all her strength to break away. "I need time," she implored.

Reluctantly, he nodded and touched his index and middle finger to her temple. Lenore felt something warm wash over her and suddenly the world seemed so much richer and fresh. "What was that?"

"I returned your magic. You've recovered from you addiction and if you're going to leave her I want you to stay safe," he informed her with sad eyes.

"Thank you."

"Is there any place you want me to send you?" She could tell it took a lot for him to say that.

Lenore shook her head. "I'll make my own way." Then she did the hardest thing of her life – she left Loki and did her damndest not to look back.

* * *

_Naples, Italy  
April 18, 1892  
_

The villa was impressive, a stark white against the backdrop of the lush Italian countryside. Several demon-possessed servants meandered through the yard but none were brave enough to approach Lenore once she shot them a dark look. It had taken her five years to find her brother and she was not about to let anyone stop her at this point. Several years had been required for her to reconnect with her magic and make amends for the earlier abuse, but now Lenore felt her skills were competent to deal with any interferring demons.

She stalked into the sitting room where she could feel Fergus' presence radiating; her purple dress flowed behind her and her small heels made a light clacking noise. Fergus looked up as she entered the room and raised his whiskey glass in salute. "Evening, Len. I see you've managed to scare the bejesus out of my help again."

"Fergus," she greeted irately.

"What, no hug and kiss?" he asked with a bemused expression. "What's got your knickers in a twist."

"I've been searching for you for the past three years." The first two Lenore had just focused on her own recovery and magic. "I've called for you and talked to your bloody demons but you've been hiding. From me. Why?"

Fergus took a swig of his amber liquid. "I don't quite know what you're talking about, Len. My demons must be slipping because I haven't heard anything about you searching for me."

Annoyed, Lenore sat across from him and folded her arms over her chest. "Fergus, you may be the master of lies to some but I know you too well." His eyes flashed and she gave him a smug smile. "And I know why you've been avoiding me. You know I need my locket back."

"_Your_locket? Luv, I'm afraid to break this to you but it's my locket now. You gave it to me fair and square."

"I need it," she stated earnestly. "I made a mistake giving it to you and I must make amends."

He smirked. "Who gave it to you? Loki?"

"No," she lied.

Fergus laughed. "You didn't care if I had this or not for years and then suddenly you reconnect with that bastard and you want it back. It doesn't take a Voltaire to know why."

Lenore grimaced. "What does it matter? I just need it. Please. I'll go on a safari and find you something else to replace it, something better."

"No."

"Fergus! Please! I'm asking as your sister."

He rolled his eyes. "And I'm denying your request because one, this thing is damn powerful and two, I hate that sonofabitch who wants it back."

"That's not fair!" Lenore cried out indignantly. She knew that this demonic version of Fergus was selfish but apparently Lenore had deluded herself into believing he would still do whatever he could to help her.

"That's life," Fergus replied.

"Seriously Fergus, I need that locket."

"Why?"

"Because…it was a present from Loki and he was upset when he learned the truth. Before I go back to him that locket is one of the things I need," she tried to explain.

Fergus let out a snort of amusement. "Now I'm _really_not giving it back to you."

"Why?" she she nearly shouted.

Fergus leaned forward and pointed his finger at her. "As your big brother I in no way support your relationship with that buggered idiot."

"Fergus," she sighed. "You just hate him because of the deal you made to save Elspeth and I from getting burned at the stake."

"Bloody right I do! Stupid wanker cut off my penis off!" Fergus snarled angrily.

Lenore rolled her eyes. "That was a bastard thing to do but that was two centuries ago, Fergus."

"_And_he's no good for you. Bloody has ditched you more often than not. You can't trust him."

Lenore leaned back into the plush chair and curled her legs underneath her. "I know," she agreed regretfully.

Fergus looked at her with interest. "Indeed?"

She shrugged. "I love him." Fergus scoffed and she gave him a dirty look. "But I've been trying to spend some time away from him to see if I can get over all his betrayals. I still love him but I can't completely trust him. I don't think he'd ever do anything again but what if he does? What if he runs off with some goddess or lies to me again or just runs away again when things get tough?"

"Exactly," Fergus declared with a raised glass. "You can't trust the wanker." He peered at her. "So why do you need the locket back?"

"Because it was wrong of me to give it away. And if I ever do go back to Loki I want it with me."

Fergus scoffed. "Well you're not getting it back, darling. Sorry about your luck."

Lenore went to sit next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Fergus, please."

He let out a long, suffering sigh. "That may have worked back when you were a kid and I was human, but not anymore Len. I have to look out for myself and your necklace is one of the best ways for me to do that."

"Fergus!" she shouted angrily as she slapped his shoulder. "You give it back right now. I demand it!"

"You're such a feisty thing," he smirked. "But allow me to say it again – _no_."

And then he vanished.

Furious that Fergus would do this to her – and even angrier that maybe Loki had been right when he questioned her brother's love for her – Lenore set about destroying Fergus' most beloved possessions. With grim pleasure she dumped each bottle of Craig whiskey he owned and hoped it would irritate her stupid older brother.

* * *

_Somewhere in the Congo,  
May 7, 1898  
_

Today was her birthday.

Lenore didn't much care for her birthday, especially when she was turning two-hundred and twenty-six, but it pleased her that Loki had continued his tradition of making it special. Today he had, through a delivery by Fenrir, given her a gift of a _Mortemzilina_, her favorite meal that was found in the Qur'Toth Dimension and a sapphire protection amulet that also doubled as a very pretty necklace.

"Thank you, and tell your father I said thank you," Lenore said to Fenrir; catching his eye so they could telepathically communicate.

The great wolf cocked his head as he started at her. _'You know, you could always tell him yourself,'_he whispered in her mind.

Lenore bit back a groan. Fenrir had never really liked her and she knew he _really_didn't appreciate resorting to being a messenger for Loki. "I'm still not ready, okay? Someday, but not today."

Fenrir grunted. _'He's been depressed ever since you left. Barely tricks anyone anymore. He loves you. It's been twelve years. What more do you want?'_

She couldn't tell Fenrir the cause of her turmoil and why she was stil having trouble finding it within her to trust Loki. Even though he was constantly trying to make it up to her through sending gifts, flowers, and expensive inter-dimensional meals, she was still having trouble making her wall come down. They did exchange letters once a week but while his bordered on romantic she kept a friendly tone until she could decide what she wanted.

No – she knew what she wanted…she just wasn't sure if it was what she needed.

"I don't know," she answered lamely.

Until she met Fenrir she never thought a wolf could snort in annoyance. _'I know my father and he's loved you since you first came to stay with him.'_

Now it was her turn to laugh. "That long ago? I doubt it. He was still hung up on Kali."

Fenrir rolled his eyes. _'Kali and him ended things long before that, vampire.'_

"Oh," she said in confusion. But hadn't Loki been jealous when Kali left with her?

_'Whatever it is you're trying to figure it out, I hope it's soon. Good-bye, Lenore,'_Fenrir said before he abuptly turned tail and left the cave she was staying in.

"Bye," she called after him, still processing his words. Had Loki really loved her for that long? Even when she was just some 'charge' to him? Lenore tried to think back to that day when she left with Kali…

_Following an extended moment of silence Kali spoke in an amused tone. "I never would have figured you for the type."_

"What type?" he asked cautiously.

A snort of laughter. "The jealous type. It doesn't suit you, Loki."

"I-I'm not jealous!" he sputtered defensively.

Lenore sat down shakily and wrapped an old blanket around her shoulders. She had thought that Loki was jealous about Kali…but if Fenrir was right then she had completely misinterpreted that conversastion. And the more she thought about their interactions the more she could see it…he did love her.

…Yet, that didn't mean he wouldn't do something to screw it up again. Loki did have a tendency to do that, after all.

* * *

_Beijing, China  
June 18, 1900  
_

It amazed Lenore that after abusing her magic for nearly twenty years that it was taking almost as long to become fully confident in her abilities again. In the beginning the earth retreated from her touch and it took several years just to command the simplest of spells. Finally, after twelve years of roaming the continents and reconnecting with nature and her innate power, Lenore was finally starting to feel at home again in the world.

She expressed her relief and happiness at this feeling in a letter to Loki. Although they had not seen each other since they left, they still exchanged weekly letters. In addition, Loki sent many magical artifacts and other gifts to her; she knew he was fervently trying to make amends while respecting her desire to avoid him until she figured things out. Of course, Lenore was still conflicted on what to do with Loki so she just spent more time practicing her witchcraft so she wouldn't have to think too much on him.

After travelling though Europe and Africa she was now spending time in Asia – Beijing, to be specific. She heard that there was a witch living here who had perfected a teleportation spell – a spell she was barely adept at – and Lenore came to investigate. With the Boxer Rebellion in play she had been worried that the woman, Li Ming, may have left already. Unfortunately, Lenore had yet to find her anywhere and was suspecting that Li Ming was already gone. The streets were chaotic – full of fire, looting, and debauchery – so she was not surprised.

However, she was surprised to see two familiar faces dancing in the streets.

Drusilla's long black hair fell in sharp contrast across her red coat and she was giggling madly as she lifted the hem of a long yellow dress. Twirling her in circles was Spike – although he did not much resemble the Spike she remembered. His blond hair was floppy and hung in his eyes and instead of black leather he wore a monochramic brown suit and coat. Suddenly Drusilla let out a high-pitched "Ooooh!" and turned to stare at Lenore.

"Grandmummy! You've come to visit me!" she squealed happily like a child.

Lenore was taken aback that Drusilla was so pleased to see her. Didn't she realize they were two different types of vampires? One would have thought Angel and Darla would have spoken enough foul things about her to have her descendent despise her. Then again, Drusilla was insane.

As Drusilla skipped towards Lenore – with Spike following protectively behind – Lenore smiled softly. It warmed her heart to see Drusilla so happy…but then it made her feel cold all over when she wondered just _why_her undead granddaughter was so happy. Regardless, Lenore couldn't help but catch Drusilla when she leapt into her arms and hug her tightly. Pulling away, Lenore pushed back stray raven locks behind Drusilla's hair. "Hello darling. How are you?"

Giggling, Drusilla clasped Lenore's hand and spun her. "The world's on fire and we're all drawn to it like moths. Dancing, flying moths."

Lenore fought to hide her sadness. She had never met the future version of Drusilla so knowing that the vampire was insane and witnessing it were too very different things. For not the first time she cursed Angelus and Darla. Speaking of which, she wondered where they were…for her desire for revenge suddenly flared within her soul.

"Yes, we are like moths, aren't we darling?" Lenore smiled. She glanced back at Spike and cursed silently. She prayed to every diety above that Spike would not remember her from this moment – or at least would never say anything once he met 'Tara'.

"Ooooh, I have a darling little man, Grandmummy." Drusilla grinned childishly as she curtsied to present Spike to Lenore. "His name is William and his words paint a pretty picture inside my head."

"So your Drusilla's grandmum, huh?" Spike said. "Nice to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you."

Lenore choked on her own saliva at his words. "Oh? Have you now?"

Drusilla brought her arms up and circled Lenore like a hawk. "Everybody used to talk about you, Grandmummy. Demons feared you like mouses fears the owl and you made everyone howl in their houses. And you ate nasty little humans, just like me!"

Lenore felt ill at the memories. "Yes, well…er, I've changed, Drusilla. I don't hunt anymore."

Ceasing her movements, Drusilla stared at her in surprise while her lower lip trembled. "Oh! But I so thought we could play in the fire and bathe in blood under moonlight together!" Spike's arm immediately went to wrap around his Maker's.

"I'm sorry, Drusilla." Lenore was struck by a thought as she watched her descendent – Drusilla and Spike were evil and would only kill and maim throughout their lives. The old her would have killed them. Yet now looking at them Lenore couldn't find it within herself to do so. Since leaving Loki she had yet to take a life – human or demon – and she did not want to start with her descendent – who was only a vampire because she was unfortunate enough to be related to Lenore.

Although even with those reservations she still wanted to find and kill Angelus and Darla. "Drusilla, my daughter, where are Angelus and Darla? It's been so long since I've seen them."

Spike smirked but he allowed Drusilla – who suddenly burst into tears – to answer. "Oooooh, it's awful! Daddy got cursed by nasty gypsy scum and he's lost in the bright light; his eyes unable to find his way home! My other grandmummy was so angry and she ran away back to her Sire. Me and Spikey are all alone!" Drusilla howled.

Biting her lip, Lenore pulled Drusilla into a loving hug. God help her, but she had always been motherly – both as Tara and Lenore – and even though she knew the creature in her arms was wicked, Lenore couldn't help but love her. "I'm sorry love," she whispered. Meanwhile, she also couldn't help but realize that if Angelus had been cursed already then he was Angel, not Angelus anymore.

Somehow that didn't make her feel any better. Holding Drusilla in her arms right now was a painful reminder of what Lenore had lost that day – not to mention that Angelus' attack in Russia forced Lenore down the path of drinking human blood. She bit back a growl – he had to pay.

"I'll pay your daddy a visit and see if I can fix him, darling. Where is he?" Lenore asked in a concerned tone.

"We left him earlier in the evening, after my Spikey killed himself a slayer. Last I knew he was in an dirty alley cowering like a human," Drusilla frowned. "All morose like a play that will never see the light of day."

"Uh-huh. Well, thank you Drusilla my dear." She pulled the vampire into a brief hug. "Be good."

Eying Spike, Lenore felt a pang of desire to be back in Sunnydale around those she used to love. Impulsively, she pulled Spike into a hug as well – practically calling out Fate to have Spike recognize Tara in the future. Oh well. "Be good to my Drusilla, Spike; or else I'll get back into the demon killing game again," she said with a bit of warning. Lenore knew that Spike loved Drusilla more than himself but she couldn't help threatening him slightly over her descendent – she was a Scooby after all.

Spike blanched at her threat for a moment but then beamed proudly and wrapped his arms around Drusill. "Oh, I will. Dru's my sun," he said as he kissed Drusilla's temple.

"Excellent," Lenore smiled.

Almost five hours later Lenore found Angelus hudding in a darkened alley far away from the noise of the crowd – and, likely, the scent of their blood. Discretly, she watched him as he rocked back and forth while sitting with his knees drawn to his chest. For the past five hours her bloodlust had grown into a thunderous demand that reverberated through her soul. Angelus had taken so much from her and he deserved to die in the most painfull way possible.

She approached him; smirking with satisfaction at his startled reaction when he heard her heels clacking over the stone surface. His eyes widened first in surprise and then horror as he recognized her. '_Good_," she thought as her fingers reflexively clenched. "Recognize me, Angelus?"

He shuddered at the sound of her voice and immediately placed his hands over his ears. "No. Can't be real. Can't be," he murmured with closed eyes.

Snarling, Lenore lifted him up by his shirt and slammed him into a brick wall. "Look at me, you murderer!"

Angelus did; his eyes were weary and grief-stricken.

Lenore ignored the way hot, angry tears forming in the corners of her eyes. After all these years she _finally_had the creature responsible for the many wrongs done to her: Drusilla's transformation, stealing her teleportation spell supplies so she had to rely on Fergus and give up Loki's locket, and her near-death that forced her to become addicted to human blood. This creature was evil – whether his soul was intact or not.

"L-Lenore," Angelus whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Dropping him to the floor at his apology, Lenore stared at him in shock. "Do you really think one little apology will amend everything you've done to me? To Drusilla?"

Angelus shook his head with a forlorn expression. "No," he answered softly. "I can never make right what I did to you."

Lenore grunted in frustration at the realization that his apology was evaporating her burning anger. Angelus was _evil_and eventually he would return in Sunnydale and wreak havoc there. And yet…as his words gave her pause Lenore came to the startling realization that in her blind fury she had been ready to kill. Again. While a part of her brain insisted that Darla and Angelus deserved nothing less there was another part of her that knew killing them may send her back onto a dark path.

Backing away from Angelus, Lenore took in a painful breath as the memories from her own wicked actions passed through her mind's eye. Right then and there Lenore had a revelation – she was no better than Angelus. At least Angelus was a creature without a soul when he committed those crimes….Lenore's soul had been completely intact when she killed and maimed across the land; not even always checking to see if the demons she killed were hostile or not.

And then there was that poor, innocent girl.

Now watching Angelus' eyes reflect guilt and pain Lenore was even more certain that to kill him would be wrong. This was now Angel, a more-or-less innocent soul that had nothing to do with the wrongs Angelus had committed. In fact, with her future knowledge perhaps Lenore would be able to prevent Angel losing his soul again.

"My God," Lenore whispered. Another moment and she would have had more innocent blood on her hands.

Angelus - _Angel_- cradled his head in his hands. "I will not stop you if you want to kill me." He sighed. "I should die."

Her fingers itched again but Lenore pushed her bloodlust away. "Yes, you likely should die," she conceded. "But death is too easy, Angel."

He looked up in surprise. "You mean Angelus."

Lenore shrugged in disinterest. "Angelus was a soulless beast. But you, you now have a soul and with that a conscience. So you can take the easy way out – death – or you could live up to your name and help others."

"Help others?" he repeated with a puzzled expression.

"You're strong and hard to kill. Trust me, there are not enough people on the side of good like that." Lenore knelt down next to him and caught his eye. "If you are truly sorry for all that has happened then you should seek redemption. That is the only way you'll make things right again."

Angel gave her a hesitant nod. "But how do I do that?"

Lenore pressed her lips together as she pondered. Angel looked so helpless at the moment and she knew she should help him…but at the same time Lenore couldn't stand the thought of spending more time with him. Yes, she had forgiven him in a way but every time she looked at him she felt sick with regrets of her own.

Unbidden, memories of Bible verses floated through her mind:

_"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."_

"For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you don't forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

Lenore inwardly groaned at the realization of what she had to do; Angel was not the only one who needed redemption. So Lenore held out her hand and gave Angel and expectant look. "Come. I will teach you."

Angel appeared awed at her words. "You'll teach me? Even after what I did to you?"

Lenore shrugged and gave him a soft smile. "Blessed are the merciful, Angel."

He nodded in understanding; anyone born in recent centuries knew enough Bible passages to understand well-known quotes and the intentions behind them. "Thank you," he told her sincerely.

His whispered thanks successfully snuffed out her flaring bloodlust – but it also did something else as well. It was not just Angel that Lenore needed to forgive…

Lenore realized it was time to fully forgive an angel of her own.

* * *

A/N:

_References_:  
*_Mortemzilina_, her favorite meal that was found in the Qur'Toth Dimension- I know this story is long so in case you've forgotten this is that reptilian almost raptor-style beast that has spicy hot blood and is a favorite of Lenore's; it's been mentioned in the Televangelist chapter and the New Year's Eve in Rome chapter.  
*Bible verses stem from the Book of Matthew  
*Spike killed his first Slayer during the Boxer Rebellion, seen in flashbacks in 'Fool for Love' (season 5 of BTVS) and we see Angel saving missionaries in 'Darla' (season 2 episode 7 of Angel)


	34. The All Father Comes to Call

**The All Father Comes to Call**

A/N:

Note: Some brief non-explicit sexual content ahead

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
August 30, 1900  
_

The weather was almost insufferable, even for a vampire's body that could endure almost anything. A late summer thunderstorm rumbled through the mountainous area and made her travels much more troublesome. Rain soaked through her white summer dress, hail railed upon her, and lightning struck the nearby land with such a jolt that Lenore couldn't help but jump several times.

Of course, the jumping may have been due to her nerves as well.

After over two months of teaching Angel how to live on human blood and meditation techniques to curb his bloodlust, Lenore was finally on her way to see Loki. She had informed her friend in a letter of her new student and that Angel's recovery from bloodlust required them to stay far away from civilization; thus, due to her hidden location, she had not written or received letters from Loki since she made her decision to go back to him. Today would be her first opportunity to tell him she forgave him.

She hoped he would accept it.

Sure, his letters still hinted at the love he felt for her…but Lenore had never done anything like this before – confessing love and asking for someone to take her back. Also, after all, Loki was rather a playboy type…oh god…now that she was thinking about it what if her surprise visit was a mistake? Perhaps he was entertaining some new dimwitted goddess right now? What if she was going to walk in on them?

Lenore halted in her steps, just thirty feet from Loki's mountainous home. Yes, she should probably just head home. This was insane…crazy of her! If she continued walking she would announce her change of heart and either Loki would laugh in her face or accept her…but then they would be together forever and there was still Willow to consider in the future…

A howl suddenly pierced the night and Lenore scowled at the message. Essentially the local wolf pack was giving Loki a head's up that a supernatural being was on his homestead. The last time Lenore had been on this land was thirteen years ago and wild wolves tend to live up to the age of twelve; therefore none of the current wolves were familiar with her scent.

Loki's door creaked open and a stream of light fell across the green grass of the surrounding meadow. Garbed in black trousers, a long button-up white shirt with wide sleeves, and his favorite animal cloak, he appeared intimidating as he presented a cool face to the outside world. His eyes scanned the surrounding area with a look of annoyance and he appeared to be contemplating what he would do to whatever supernatural beast was invading his territory. However, once his amber eyes found her in the shadow of the night they flared to life and Lenore felt a warmth blossom in her chest at the sight.

"Lenore," he whispered, not moving as his eyes drank in the sight of her.

A hesitant smile worked its way onto her face. The letters throughout their thirteen-years apart had been welcome but it wasn't until this moment that she realized what an inadequate replacement they were.

"Hi," she greeted him, an almost nervous tone underlying the simple word. Her fingers intertwined and her thumbs rubbed against the top of her hand as she tried to qualm her anxiety.

Disregarding the pouring rain, Loki stepped out from under the safety of the doorway and approached her with a cautious expression. Once he was within arms reach he stopped, as if he wanted to allow her to make the first move. "It's been a while," he commented quietly, eyes shining with such brilliance that it took her breath away.

Lenore nodded. It had. Too long, she realized as her sensitive nose caught his tell-tale scent; the scent of freshness that accompanied such a pristine environment and the sweetness of evergreen trees. Mostly though, he smelled like home.

Swallowing, she forced herself to overcome her nervousness. After all, this was _Loki_. Of all the beings in this universe he knew her the best. "I had a revelation recently."

He raised a lazy brow. "Indeed?" he inquired in a mildly hopeful yet tentative voice.

Lenore's smile widened and she nodded. "About forgiveness." Loki's eyes blinked at her words, as if he was surprised. "I forgive you, for everything." Doubt forced the next words out. "If you'll accept that."

Loki's head cocked to the side as he gave her a penetrating look. Their eyes locked and suddenly his hand was warming her cold, rain-streaked cheek. "I accept it, Lenore," he told her in a husky voice.

Relief spread through her as the weight she had been carrying for thirteen years lifted off her shoulders. "I love you, Loki," she stated breathlessly.

His lips brushed softly across hers like a butterfly's wing. "I love you, Lenore."

She sighed as Loki deepened the kiss; and she thanked God for showing her the value of forgiveness.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
December 21, 1910  
_

The fireplace in Loki's den crackled and popped as he magically added another log. Closing her eyes, Lenore basked in the heat of the flames and stretched luxuriously across the bear skin run. A low chuckle caused her to open her eyes and she found Loki grinning at her.

"Hmm?" she asked lazily, feeling rather spent from a night of lovemaking.

Lips curving into a sly smile, he answered her. "I was just thinking how glad I am that I'm not human, otherwise I probably wouldn't have the good fortune of getting an erection every hour, on the hour, when I look at you."

Soft laughter floated from her lips as she shook her head in amusement. Gazing at his nude form she smirked. "And I'm glad that _I'm_not human or I likely wouldn't be able to walk this morning."

Loki gave her a look of mock alarm. "Wait a second…you can still walk? Dammit." He pursed his lips. "Clearly I'm not doing something correctly." With that he lunged for her and Lenore squealed in delight.

Ten minutes later they were mid-coitus when a wolf howl carried on the wintry winds to their ears and seconds later loud knocks against his aged wooden door sounded through the den.

"Come back later!" Loki growled; his body never missing a beat of his rhythmic thrusts. Feeling impetuous, Lenore ground her hips against him and was pleased by the grunt of pleasure he released, regardless of the outside company.

"It is I, Odin."

Immediately Loki stopped his movements and slid out of her. A look of alarm flashed across his face and his magically snapped clothes on each of them. Jaw tightened, he turned to her and spoke urgently. "Lenore, you should go into the bedroom."

"But why?" she asked, puzzled. Lenore knew, based on what she read in books previously, quite a bit about Norse mythology. Odin was the principal god of the pantheon and it was indicated that he was a friend of Loki's – so why did Loki want her to leave?

"I'll tell you later," he swore. Reluctantly – and irate – Lenore followed his directions and retreated to the bedroom. They had been lovers for ten years now yet Loki was still reluctant to talk about his past. When she pressed him, especially in regards to his angel past, he admittance his reluctance stemmed from not wanting to corrupt her own beliefs; that if he told the honest truth about his past and God and all the angels then she would have a different view on her religion. Initially she had been upset – she hated having secrets between them! – but he had further explained that regardless of his feelings towards his Father there were certain secrets that weren't his to tell.

Lenore had understood his explanation and was mature enough that after two-hundred and thirty-eight years on this earth she could accept it…even if she did not particularly care for it.

For now her keen ears listened carefully to all that went on in the other room.

The door opened and Loki's 'diplomatic' voice – as in, the one he rarely used – spoke. "Odin. Your visit is a pleasant surprise. Please, come into my home."

Heavy footfalls and the light tap of a wooden stick – perhaps a staff? – hit the smooth floor. "Hah!" Odin snorted. "Pleasant surprise my ass, Loki. From the sounds I heard and the sight of the sheen of sweat upon your brow, it appears I have interrupted you from something." The god's voice was a deep baritone and it rumbled like a great wave of pure power.

Loki laughed. "You know me, Odin. I like to stay busy," he replied lightly.

"Indeed?" She could hear Odin take a seat on the couch. "I imagine so. It has been many years since you have graced my hall."

Lenore heard the sound of Loki taking a seat across from Odin. "Forgive me, Odin. I lose track of time."

"Enough so to ignore my invitations to my annual _blót_? Many would consider the avoidance of your friend's yearly sacrificial ceremony to be rather rude." There was ironic amusement in Odin's voice but it was blended with a touch of unpleasantness.

"I have been distracted. It won't happen again." Loki sounded contrite…which was so _un_-Loki; her lover did not care what the other gods thought of him.

Odin paused and then continued. "I understand that the years may pass like seconds, but do not forget your debt to me, Giant Slayer."

Lenore frowned. What on earth did that mean?

"I will never forgive the favor you once showed me," Loki swore in a respectful tone.

"Good." There was a hint of a smile in Odin's voice. "Now, when will you invite that pretty vampire woman out to meet me?"

Lenore's eyes widened – so much for hiding.

"Oh! Ah, I did not realize that you were aware of her," Loki replied in surprise.

Odin chuckled lightly. "I am aware of many things, Loki."

Silence pervaded the house for several minutes before Loki called out for her. Decked in a dark emerald dress, Lenore strode into the den. Odin stood up and stared at her with shining eyes. "So, you are the one who stole the heart of my friend so many years ago."

Feeling suddenly shy, Lenore extended her arm. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she greeted the powerful god. Odin appeared as an elderly man of perhaps sixty years with a long, gnarled grey beard and a hooked nose. Only one shining brown eye peered out at her from the shadows created by a dark grey floppy hat. He carried a long wooden staff in one hand and he wore a dark cloak that clung around his powerfully built body.

Odin clasped her offered hand and bent down to give it a lingering kiss; over his shoulder Loki glared slightly. Her lover could be so jealous at times.

"You are as lovely as I have heard," Odin rumbled as he stood up.

"And what have you heard?" Lenore inquired curiously.

Thin lips smiled underneath the weight of a thick grey mustache. "A great deal. I was with Loki when he received the summons of a man named Fergus McLeod two-hundred years ago. Several years later Loki requested my aid in discovering the location of the Alpha Vampire's base. Naturally, I have paid you some interest over the years." He grinned in Loki's direction. "After all, it is not as if my friend's tongue is as loose as some of the others from our pantheon."

Loki scowled. "I have enough enemies within our family to let them know of my interest in someone who is not a goddess, and thus less able to protect herself."

"I can protect myself just fine!" Lenore protested indignantly.

Odin gave her an indulgent, almost grandfatherly smile. "Indeed. You are a powerful creature, Lenore. Yet our family is a great deal more powerful; some of us are even able to perform resurrections of our family members."

Loki paled. "Then the rumors are true…?"

The smile faded from Odin's face. "Yes, and that is the real reason why I have come to visit you. My wife Frigga has brought back my second son."

Visibly upset by the news, Loki's lips pressed into a thin line. "But I thought that was impossible!"

"Frigga was very determined," Odin stated emotionlessly. He watched Loki's expression with something akin to amusement. "Baldur wants to kill you. And," he glanced at Lenore, "your vampire."

The fireplace roared to life as the flames flared outward for a second. Fists curled, Loki angrily spat, "I'll have him killed again!"

Disturbed by the news, all Lenore could do was glance back and forth at the two gods. "Why?" she demanded to know.

"Because he's a giant dick!" Loki answered, rather unhelpfully.

"Because Loki tricked Höðr, Baldur's blind brother and my son, into shooting him with an arrow made of mistletoe – my son Baldur's only weakness," Odin explained calmly.

"Oh," Lenore said unhappily as she lowered herself into a chair. "Er, so why are you warning us when Baldur is your son?"

Odin shot Loki an indecipherable look. "Loki is my blood brother and I do not fault him for his actions against my son. As of now, I have no wish for Baldur to bring further chaos into our family. I am holding a feast in my son's honor at my hall in Asgard and want to invite both of you. This feud must end and this event will see to it."

"I'm not going to go see that asshole!" Loki snorted in an outraged voice. "I'm liable to stick a wad of mistletoe up his ass!"

"You _will _go and that is final, Loki. Baldur has been told the same and no violence will be allowed under my roof," Odin snapped, his calm voice evaporating.

Lenore watched as Loki stared into Odin's eyes. Finally he grumbled, "Fine, dammit. Have it your way."

Odin smiled. "Excellent. The feast is tonight, since our brethren were already planning on a Yule gathering. I shall see you then." He nodded at Loki and tipped his hat in Lenore's direction before walking out the door.

Loki had been silent and moody since Odin's departure. He had conjured a gown for her and then retreated in his study. She had never seen him like this and, while it was tempting to pester him with her many questions, she gave him his room. Something strange was afoot but she was confident that he would explain everything soon.

So she went about preparing for the party, irritated with the flutter of nervous excitement in her stomach. Although she knew who Loki's _true_ family was (the angels), this was as close to a family introduction as she was going to get. While she was unsure how long ago Gabriel had become Loki, she knew that it had to be over a thousand years. These Norse gods were his closest family at the moment and Lenore was compelled by an urge to have them like her.

The dress that Loki had given to her certainly helped to boost her confidence. It was the latest in fashion; several weeks ago she saw it on a trip to Paris when they visited _Callot Soeurs_, the leading fashion house of Europe. She recognized this dress as one that was in the back room awaiting it's revelation for the spring fashion show. The fabric was a midnight blue with gold lamé and thick straps that plunged the neckline right above the line of her décolleté. Extra fabric hung from the waist and it moved prettily when she spun in front of the mirror.

At the time she had not even commented on how much she liked it. She supposed that Loki must have seen the look in her eyes as she had run her hand over the expensive fabric. Certainly, she would have to show her appreciation later, after the night's events.

As the sun began to set across their valley, Loki emerged in a dapper outfit of earthy-tone trousers, a pristine white shirt that laced halfway up, and a cloak made from the pelt of an brown bear across his shoulders. His face was taut, as if he had a great deal on his mind. Lenore approached him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"You are worried." It was not a question but a statement.

Amber eyes looked down at her. "Who, me? I don't get worried," he scoffed. But he sounded distracted and she knew his words were just for show.

"Tell me about it."

Loki pursed his lips as he pondered her suggestion, then kissed her brow. "I doubt we have time." He pulled out a five-inch stick and set it in her hand. "Here, hide this on your person. It's a mistletoe branch. If Baldur tries anything—" Loki paused as he sucked in a deep breath of air as his eyes stormed over "—If he tries anything, stake the bastard."

Lenore took the stick but her other hand reached up to caress his cheek. "Loki, _what_is going on here?"

He looked away and pain shot through Lenore – she hated him keeping secrets. "Don't you trust me?" she whispered.

His expression turned regretful and he pulled her close. "I _do_ Lenore, I do. But you know I don't like to talk about my old life. As far as I'm concerned _you_are my new life. That's just the past."

Pulling away, she gave him a serious look. "But the past is invading our present."

Loki sighed heavily. "Let's just say that Bal and I have never gotten along – he hated how Odin adopted me into their family and we've always fought. The so-called god of love and spring is a bigger asshole than you'd think," he snorted at her inquiring look. "Basically he used his magic-mojo mess up my first marriage. After that our fights got bigger and finally, when Anyanka requested my aid against Baldur – he cheated on her," Loki explained, "—I tricked his brother Höðr into killing him. Let's just say I haven't exactly been welcome in Asgard since then," he added wryly.

"Asgard?" She was curious as to what Asgard was but she admittedly was more curious about Loki's past relationships. Lenore was aware of his children – although she had only me Fenrir to date – but he never spoke of his former lovers. Perhaps, however, that was for the best.

"One of the nine worlds of our pantheon. Uh, you can compare it to the Greek's Mount Olympus if you will," Loki shrugged.

"Okay," she nodded. "But, shouldn't you be hopeful? After all, it seems as if Odin wants to establish a truce."

"Maybe," Loki scowled. "Odin may mean well but there's a reason I've been avoiding the various pantheons in the last decade – the last thing I want is for you to become a target. I've got a lot of enemies, Lenore."

Glaring at him, she smacked his chest. "I'm no child, Loki."

He gave her an indulgent smile. "Yes, I know. You are strong, both in physical strength and magical. And smart as well – not many vampires could kill a goddess."

Lenore grimaced. She hated to think of how she had murdered in the past. Aphrodite had been a bitch who never would have ceased to interfere in her life, but there was a part of her that regretted the goddess of love's murder.

"_But_," Loki added, "you _don't_ want to get targeted by the pagan gods. They're vengeful bastards and extremely powerful. If anything every happened to you…" he trailed off, jaw tightened, as he suddenly found the fireplace a welcome distraction.

She kissed him. "Don't worry."

Loki didn't speak further; he pulled her into his arms and teleported them to a location she had never seen before. The heavens were darkening but there was a brilliant rainbow arching over the sky and into a sea of clouds. Gasping at the lovely sight, Lenore couldn't help but smile. "It's beautiful," she whispered in awe.

"That, my dear, is _Bifröst_, the bridge to the Norse heavens." There was a wistful look in Loki's eye and she wondered what he was remembering. "Many years ago I arrived seeking sanctuary – and Odin gave it to me."

Questions lay at the tip of her tongue but Loki suddenly shook his head. "We should get going. I want to make an entrance before the meal is served." He winked at her and she laughed indulgently – she was more than aware of her lover's serious side but in public he embraced a much more mischievous persona.

Taking her hand, he led her to the foot of the rainbow – which was a baffling sight. Stories of rainbows were common in mythology but she had never actually _approached_ one before, as a tangible object. Idly, she wondered if there was any gold nearby.

Flames suddenly shot in their path and Loki cursed, pushing Lenore behind him. Peering over his shoulder she saw a dragon, its scales the color of gleaming obsidian and its eyes a flaming red. Over thirty feet long, its tail whipped back and forth like an angry cat as it stared them down.

"_Loki_" it hissed. "_You seek to enter the Great Hall after all these years of expulsion?_"

"Listen here, Níðhöggr," Loki snapped angrily. "I got an invite from the All Father himself, so suck it."

Níðhöggr's scales bristled at the tone of the trickster god's voice. "_You may have been invited, but you are not wanted._"

"Yeah, well you're the one stuck in-between for all of eternity, not even able to leave this spot." Loki then smirked. "Maybe if you're good I'll bring you home a doggy bag full of tasty scraps from Valaskjalf."

"_The only scraps I would want from Odin's Great Hall are scraps of your flesh, _" the dragon hissed.

Power flared out from Loki and the great dragon suddenly let out a roar of pain. "You're getting too big for your britches, kid. Odin would be pissed if I killed you but I don't think he'd mind some meaningless torture." Níðhöggr howled further and the dragon rolled painfully onto his back in submission.

"Loki," Lenore whispered as she touched the back of his shoulder.

She felt his tense muscles loosen and he stopped whatever he was doing to Níðhöggr. "You're right. We should go." He glared pointedly once more at the creature and then led her to the rainbow. Turning to her, he took a deep calming breath. "Okay, this will feel kind of weird, but take my hand and try your best not to get sick along the ride."

"What do you me—" But she never finished her question because once she followed Loki onto the rainbow the world began flying past her. A frightened shriek was squeezed from her throat and Loki began laughing at her reaction. The rainbow, upon stepping on it, acted almost as a conveyer belt-roller coaster hybrid. While they were standing on the rainbow it slid them as quickly reverse-slide higher and higher in the sky. The stars appeared within arm's reach and Lenore giggled despite her fear. Eventually they reached the clouds and the rainbow gently deposited onto the surface, which was surprisingly firm.

"Welcome Loki, Blood Brother of Odin," a gruff voice greeted them. The speaker was a large man with gold teeth and skin as white as a cumulus cloud. His hair resembled spun gold and it swung in his face as he bowed subtly in their direction. He wore a cloak of royal purple silk, carried a curved golden horn, and stood in front of an immense hall made of marble. Behind the great hall was the largest ash tree she had even seen; its trunk descended lower than the clouds and stood at least two-hundred feet high with elongated branches that twisted under thick leaves.

"Heimdallr, Keeper of Heaven," Loki responded with a slight bow. "This is my escort—"

Eyes blue as the deep sea raked over Lenore's form. "—the elusive Lenore McLeod, once called the Vampire Saint, formerly Tara Maclay."

Lenore shivered under his intense gaze and his knowledge of her true name. "How do you know me in this way?" she boldly asked him; for if he knew that, what other creatures knew of her true past?

"Heimdallr has the gift of foresight," Loki explained. "Although," he added suspiciously as he stared at the god, "I did not expect him to know you."

The other god gestured towards the ash tree behind him. "Many visions come to me under the shade of _Yggdrasil_."

"What have you seen?" she asked curiously as she wondered the significance of the tree.

Heimdallr began reciting in a melodious voice:  
_  
"Perilous fate at the roll of the dice,  
Death and resurrection, foretold twice,  
First by cold metal, then by demon hand,  
Eventually given an army to command  
Ruin will come to the one born first,  
Quenched will be your everlasting thirst."  
_  
Lenore shared a look with Loki and then gazed back at Heimdallr. "What does that mean?" she questioned urgently. "I mean, I've died twice – once as Tara and then when I became a vampire – and even commanded an army, but what do you mean about the 'one born first'? Do you mean the Alpha?" Her breath caught at the mention of her former tormenter, Aurelius. "And by doing so I can finally be rid of my blood lust?" By all that was holy, she prayed that was the truth.

But the god was silent and merely gestured for them to move forward.

"But, tell me!" Lenore urged. After all, if she could break free of her bloodlust – and perhaps the lust for _all_vampires, then she needed to know more.

"Lenore," Loki whispered quietly as her grabbed her arm. "We should go. By whatever power that Heimdallr receives his visions he is forbidden to give more than a warning, lest he ruin what is meant to be."

"Are you serious?" she asked in surprise. "Don't you want to know, too?"

He shrugged. "I've seen a lot in my time. What's meant to be, will be. There's no point in knowing about it beforehand."

"But—"

"—Lenore, _please_. Can't we just go?" Loki begged.

Suppressing a growl, Lenore conceded to his request. She positively _hated_ dealing with prophecies. As a human she was the one who was gifted with them and now as a vampire she realized she had little patience for their riddles.

Suddenly she felt bad at her own riddles that she had written as a Prophetess. No wonder Mr. Giles had grey hairs by the time she met him.

They ascended a winding staircase that acted as an escalator, moving them up without any motion on their own part. The traveled past layers of clouds that allowed Lenore glimpses of other lands – one with elves and another with giants, for example. Finally they reached the apex of this strange world and Lenore was dazzled by the warm sun, bright green grass, and several enormous lodges.

"That one," Loki pointed to a hall with doorways wide enough to allow eight-hundred men to stroll through shoulder-to-shoulder, "is _Valhalla_. Half of the warriors who died in battle are ferried there by Odin's warrior spirits, the Vallkyries. And there," he pointed to another great hall made of silver that sparkled under the sun, "is one of Odin's other halls, _Valaskjalf_. It is where he holds all his things involving the Aesir."

"Things? Aesir?" Lenore questioned.

"Thing is an Old Norse word for assembly and Aesir is their term for god," Loki explained with a slight smile. He seemed to enjoy teaching her a bit more of his world, even if he was unhappy to be here.

"Come," he requested as he held out his arm. "I can already hear all my brethren inside living it up. I think it's time we crashed this party," he smirked impishly.

Lenore gave him a skeptical look. Call her crazy, but she doubted this family reunion would be uneventful.

* * *

A/N:

I felt like delving back into history and mythology as I had for earlier chapters, plus I wanted a deeper look into Loki's past. I hope you liked it :)

PS: I was sleepy when I edited this so forgive me if I have more editing mistakes than preferred :/

_References_:  
Odin: .org/wiki/Odin  
blót: .org/wiki/Bl%C3%B3t#Dates:  
Asgard: .org/wiki/Asgard  
Dress: .  
Callot Soeurs: .org/wiki/Callot_Soeurs  
Valaskjalf .  
Níðhöggr .org/wiki/Nidhogg  
Bifröst .org/wiki/Bifrost  
Heimdallr .org/wiki/Heimdallr  
Himinbjörg .org/wiki/Himinbj%C3%B6rg  
Yggdrasill .org/wiki/Yggdrasil  
Thing: .org/wiki/Thing_%28assembly%29


	35. Just Your Average Dinner Party at Asgard

**Just Your Average Dinner Party...at Asgard**

_Asgard, Highest of the Nine Worlds  
December 21, 1910  
_

A wave of trepidation washed over Lenore as they approached _Valaskjalf_, Odin's silver hall that gleamed brighter than the North Star. The surrounding flora was lush and green, consisting of ash and evergreen trees, bushes, and flowers. Outside the hall were two troughs on each side of the great doors. Lenore let out a gasp as she spotted the first animal lazily chewing hay out of the right trough.

"What on earth…?"

Loki, seeming to not notice her reaction, let out a happy cry and jogged over to the beast. It appeared as a great horse yet it had eight legs. Although it had as many legs as a spider, its legs were not set in the same manner; two pairs of legs existed in the front and two pairs of legs at the end of the horse. The animal frightened her but as she looked closer she also saw the beauty of the creature. Its lush grey coat shimmered prettily under the sun and it appeared to almost smile as Loki embraced it around its neck.

"Sleipnir! How are ya, you great brute?" Loki chuckled as the horse whinnied in a pleased tone.

Loki appeared to listen for a bit and then replied. "Yeah, I know. This banishment has lasted longer than I would have expected," he replied guiltily. "You know how things are…besides, did you get that early Yule gift I sent ya?" The horse, Sleipnir, whinnied again and Loki grinned smugly. "Yeah, I know. I'm the best parent ever."

Standing alone, watching them, Lenore began to feel awkward. Norse mythology was not easy to research. Since Loki never discussed it all she had to go on were a few collections of poems – called the _Eddas_ – and old Scandinavian writings – and they were all in unfamiliar languages. The major gods and goddesses were pictured, like Loki and Odin, but not much else. She recalled reading about Fenrir, Hel, Jörmungandr, and their mother Angrboda, but was unfamiliar with a _horse_ child of his. Something told Lenore that she was _completely_unprepared to meet Loki's Norse family.

Perhaps noticing her unease, Loki waved her over with a lopsided grin. "Lenore! I want you to meet one of my other kids. This is Sleipnir, Odin's great steed." Sleipnir made a proud noise and rubbed his snout against Lenore's raised hand in greeting.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sleipnir," Lenore said with a kind smile – even if inwardly she was having trouble coming to terms with a giant horse being the child of her lover. Then again, she supposed she _shouldn't_be so taken aback since she had met Fenrir.

"Okay, well we better join the fiesta before all the good mead is gone," Loki remarked as he patted the animal's hide. Sleipnir snorted and Loki laughed in response. "Yeah, I know. Odin already warned me about that ass hat."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Do me a favor and kick him sometime? Ya know, make it look like an accident or something." Sleipnir whinnied like he was laughing while Loki walked away and took Lenore's arm in his. Patting her hand reassuringly he gave her a smile. "Freaked out yet?" he asked knowingly.

"What?" she asked in surprise – although more surprised that she wasn't hiding her emotions very well, apparently.

He skeptically raised his eyebrows and squeezed her hand again. "You don't have to be here if you don't want to be," he offered as the stood before the hall's doors. "I know Odin wants it but the old geezer wants a lot of things and that doesn't mean he should get it."

Stubbornly, she shook her head. "I _want_to get to know this part of your life, Loki."

Her oldest friend in the world gave her an almost sad smile. "I hope you feel the same way after dinner."

Confused at what he was so worried about – after all she was a _vampire_for crying out loud and certainly not normal – she gave him a reassuring kiss on the lips. "I'll be fine."

Loki smiled at her words. "Alrighty then," he grinned as he snapped his fingers. The double doors, made of tan-colored ash wood, opened simultaneously to reveal dozens of gods surrounding a large, rectangular oak table. At the head of the table was Odin, who grinned merrily at their entrance. However, many of the gods and goddesses openly glared at Loki; regardless of the warm fire at the end of the hall, the atmosphere felt chilly at best.

"Heidi-ho, fam-a-rooni!" Loki called out cheerfully, his amber eyes twinkling. Gazing around the room, he smirked. "Really, please, the tears and cries of happiness at my return are really uncalled for," he remarked sarcastically.

Inside Lenore was feeling _so_ embarrassed. This _was_Loki being Loki, but she wanted to chide him for his actions; this was no way to reconnect with his Norse family.

"Loki," Odin intoned as he stood up, his deep voice reverberating through the immense hall. "I am pleased that you accepted my invitation and brought your beautiful consort, Lenore. Please, take the seats at my left hand."

Scandalous whispers arose as their footsteps echoed throughout the room, causing Lenore to cringe on the inside. However, she presented a serene face to the observers.  
_  
"Loki should be ashamed to show his face here!"_

"Have you heard? His latest consort is a vampire! Can you believe it?"

"A vampire is worse than Angrboda!"

"No wonder his daughter is half-dead if he lusts after such similar creatures!"

There were, thankfully, a few beings who gazed at them in an almost friendly manner. Fenrir stood near Odin's end of the table with two other wolves that were almost as large as Loki's son. While Fenrir's coat was pure black, the other two wolves were snow white and charcoal grey.

As they neared the chairs, Loki gave Odin and indecipherable look, as if he was almost displeased with the seating arrangement. Nevertheless, Loki held the chair two over from Odin for her and Lenore sat down. Loki followed suit in the chair between her and Odin. Directly across from Loki was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Lush dark hair topped a flawless face and his features were perfectly chiseled. Even without being told, she knew he was a god due to the sheer amount of light he seemed to give off. However, judging by the murderous look in his eyes as he stared down Loki, she presumed that this was the infamous Baldur.

Still standing, Odin began speaking. "Citizens of the Great Realm, I bring us together today to honor Yule, a time to bear witness to the return of the Sun and life back to our lands. Furthermore, I honor my son Baldur, who was brought back thanks to a mother's love, my beloved Frigg. To Baldur!"

An enormous cheer arose in the hall and Lenore held up the silver goblet in front of her. Taking part in the cheer she bent her nose to the goblet and realized animal blood, likely deer, had been placed there. Pleased by Odin's thoughtfulness, she took a sip.

"My final purpose for our _thing_is to bring my family back together again. For centuries my son and blood brother have quarreled and great harm has been endured by both them and many others in the process. Tonight we drink to burying this feud. May our realm prosper!"

A softer cheer went out and many glares, notably by Baldur, were directed towards Loki.

After that dinner was served by a group of beautiful women who wore battle armor and seemed to almost float, their efforts were so graceful. Most interesting were their helmets, which several of the other gods wore, that featured a pair of golden wings on each side of the head. "Who are they?" Lenore whispered to Loki.

"Odin's valkyries," Loki explained. "They often can only be found in the halls of Valhalla and the fields of war, yet they serve Odin in other select ways, occasionally.

As chatter began to fill the room, Odin directed his words to Loki and Baldur. "I am pleased that both of you are here."

"It was not as if we had a choice, father," Baldur remarked bitterly as he slowly swished the mead in his goblet.

"Bal, I gotta say, you look pretty good for a dead guy. Lemme guess, you did your make-up all special tonight, just for me?" Loki remarked snidely.

Baldur scoffed. "The way I see it, you seem to prefer the company of the dead," he remarked with a pointed look at Lenore.

Lenore felt herself flush – not knowing if blood would be served tonight she had fed earlier – and shifted slightly in her high-backed oak chair. A low growl left Loki's throat as he leaned over to stare directly into Baldur's eyes.

"Speak of me as you please, but my mention of my consort should not leave your foul lips," Loki warned.

"What will you do of it? You have few allies and numerous enemies, Trickster. I fear you not," Baldur spat.

Odin thumped his staff against the ground twice, in quick succession. "Be silent with you threats, for I have already forbade such actions from either party. Your nonsense has brought far too much pain to this family and I will allow it no more," the grizzled god explained in a calm, yet severe, voice.

"He started it," Loki grumbled as he crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair.

"Really mature, Loki," Baldur scoffed.

Odin snorted in an exasperated manner. "Geri, Freki," he called. The two wolves standing with Fenrir came to stand on either side of Odin, the snow white one on the right and the charcoal-colored one on the left. Odin cut the rare meat upon his plate and then threw slices to each of his wolves. "Loki, Baldur, I will have each of you make amends, by the end of the night, or my wolves will be ordered to constantly snap at your feet throughout eternity," the god threatened seriously.

"Odin! Don't be foolish. Like you can really part with either beast for too long," Loki smirked.

The two wolves snapped back in annoyance.

"I will forgive Loki his trespass against me, if I get something in return," Baldur stated with gleaming eyes.

Loki tensed.

"What do you propose?" Odin inquired.

"I want the vampire," Baldur said smoothly as he gave Lenore a sultry look. "When Loki had me murdered, my beloved wife Nanna killed herself. I want to deprive him of happiness with a female, likewise."

Loki opened his mouth to respond but Lenore beat him to it.

"I am not some _gift_, you arrogant beast!" she hissed angrily. "I am not available to be given _or_taken."

"My dear, I am the God of Love and Light. I promise I could make our unions much more memorable than the Trickster," Baldur said, his lips curving into a telling smile.

"Eat shit and die, asshole," Loki snapped as his hand protectively grasped Lenore's arm. "She will not be yours. Furthermore, you seem to forget that your past actions brought similar pain to me." His voice was filled with darkness and a touch of agony.

"Enough," Odin ordered. "I grow weary of your squabbling. Both of you are no better than children. Baldur, you may not have the vampire. Loki; however, will give Baldur a gift."

"Why?" Loki whined as Baldur smirked in a superior way.

"Because although you both have caused much harm to the other, Baldur never got you killed. Therefore, he is owed."

"What!" Loki screeched. "Hells to the no, Odin. The little shit doesn't deserve nothin'."

Baldur just smirked.

Odin continued speaking as if Loki had said nothing at all. "Loki, you will give Baldur the standard gift of forgiveness – seven virgins."

Lenore wrinkled her nose in disgust and prayed that Loki would not actually _do_such a thing.

"Fine," Loki replied, a little too quickly.

"_Female_virgins, Loki, female. Don't try to trick me," Baldur said suspiciously.

Loki gave the other god a pleasant smile. "Fine. Seven female virgins it is. If I do this my debt is paid?"

After a pause, Baldur nodded. "I suppose, yes."

Grinning, Loki snapped his fingers and seven pink sows wearing frilly white nightgowns fell onto Baldur, causing the god to fall back in his chair. "Damn you, Loki!"

Snickering, Loki shrugged. "What? I kept up my end of the agreement."

Lenore had to hide her smile in her goblet of blood as the hall burst into laughter, particularly from Odin.

"So be it. The debt has been paid." Off Baldur's furious look, Odin merely raised one eyebrow. "Next time, my son, you should define the parameters of an agreement more closely."

Baldur, for his part, glared at Loki in such a way that Lenore was sure the God of Love and Light would plot his revenge carefully.

***  
The dinner carried on after Loki's trick and soon Odin had entered into a long conversation with Loki. Left to her own devices, Lenore surveyed the room. While not much was written on Norse mythology she could at least pick out Thor. Easily the most muscular and intimidating god in the room, he had shoulder-length red hair covered by a gold helmet with wings (similar to the valkyries) and when he laughed it rumbled in the air like thunder.

"You know, it is not often that Odin allows outsiders into Asgard," the goddess next to her remarked lightly. She was stunning with long blond hair and fair features, garbed in a red dress that shimmered under the torchlight.

Lenore turned to her and smiled. "I feel honored by the invitation," she stated diplomatically – if there was one thing she learned as Kali's lover, it was the delicate balance of power between the gods in each pantheon and thus the necessity of diplomacy.

The goddess made a 'humming' noise of agreement. "Do you like our lands?"

"Oh yes," Lenore replied enthusiastically. "While I have yet to see much of it, the mere glimpses are breathtaking."

Laughter fell from the woman's ruby red lips like the tinkling of glass. "I imagine that phrase does not mean much when a creature such as yourself does not require such bodily functions."

Lenore pasted a smile on her face; she could not decipher the woman's intentions. Was she making an idle observation or mocking her in some way? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Loki look over but Odin reclaimed his attention quickly.

"It is an expression, yes. After all, a creature such as yourself does not need to breathe either, yes?" Lenore remarked.

The goddesses sky blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Indeed not. Tell me, vampire, do you consider yourself equal to the gods? As I hear it, you appear to primarily fornicate with our kind."

By his lack of reaction, Lenore doubted that Loki heard the goddess' low words. However, several other beings at the table quieted their conversations and listened in.

Lenore bristled. "Love, madam, is the great equalizer – it cares not about a being's looks or background. Yes, I have entered into relationships with gods, however I do not believe that is any of _your_business," she countered calmly, mentally squashing the sudden spike in anger. As a vampire – especially since her decades of giving into bloodlust – it was more difficult for her than others when it came to controlling her temper.

The goddess frowned at her remark.

"As to your question, all I can say is that we are all equal in the eyes of God," Lenore stated honestly. She did not like this woman and suddenly felt no need to appear diplomacy. Typically pagan gods _abhorred_the mention of the One God, but Lenore really didn't give a damn at a moment. That was, after all, her true belief.

The goddess scowled and several others gasped. "_You_, a lowly monster consider yourself to be equal to the gods? Ha!" she snapped scornfully.

"Sigyn," she heard Loki suddenly say in a warning tone. Looking over, both Loki and Odin were staring at the two females, the latter appearing neutral and the former looking aggravated.

"Really, Loki. Where on earth do you find this presumptuous creature?" Sigyn sniffed. "She pales in comparison to our kind yet considers herself an equal."

There was a rumble of agreement around the table from a majority of the gods. Several stared at her in concern, such as Fenrir and a goddess with skin almost as pale as Heimdallr and dull black hair pushed behind her ears.

"You are correct, Sigyn – Lenore is not your equal," Loki stated matter-of-factly. An uncomfortable weight began to settle in her stomach but then, underneath the table, her lover grasped her hand. "She is your better," he added snidely.

A furious scream blasted from Sigyn's lips and her chair flew against the wall as she stood up. "Blasphemer! How dare you compare me to such filth! She is a vampire, a _monster_, an abomination of man and demon! _I_am your true wife and I find it perverse that you share your bed with such a beast! I'd rather you almost be with that multi-armed freak, Kali!"

_Sigyn_. Of course. Now she remembered seeing mention of her in a book, and a drawing of her and Loki. Suddenly, it was not just fury at the goddess's actions that filled her, but the need to protect what was hers – this bitch could not have her Loki.

Drawing in the power of the earth, Lenore embraced her magic and let it shimmer in the air surrounding her as she stood up to face Sigyn. "You arrogant hag. You think yourself better than I, yet what have _you_ever done for the world? You have no worshippers and are merely a footnote in history." She spoke calmly but each of her words fell upon Sigyn's ears like daggers. Her heartbeat increased and Lenore felt a tickle in her gums that indicated her fangs were just waiting to extend.

The goddess' blue eyes widened in disbelief and then narrowed in anger. Raising her arms, she hurled yellow liquid at Lenore, but the witch deflected it with her magic. The air stank of electricity and something toxic at the meeting of the liquid and her shield. Grimacing, Lenore performed a spell that sprang thick vines from the hall's walls to wrap around Sigyn and yank the goddess against the wall, bound.

Unable to move thanks to the magically enhanced strength of the vines, Sigyn could only scream in hatred. "I curse you Lenore McLeod, to never have love in this life!"

Trembling with adrenaline, Lenore nearly jumped when Loki's warm hand grasped her shoulder. "I think we should probably go," he whispered.

Unfortunately, her act of anger opened the door to her bloodlust. Her fangs peeked out and there was a part of her that suddenly wondered what the blood of a goddess would taste like…

"Odin, thanks for the shindig. Baldur, now that you have a second chance at life, hopefully you can learn how to _not_ be a great big bag of dicks. Everyone else, toodles," Loki called out with a wave. He grasped Lenore around the waist and the next second they were outside Heimdallr's great hall, near the tree named  
_Yggdrasil_.

Driven by her bloodlust, her first response was one of outrage. "Why did you take me away, Loki?" she practically snarled. "I should have finished that bitch off!"

Lenore's temple was pounding and her chest was constricting and all she could think about was _death, death, death…_Her heart beat in time to the internal chant and her mouth practically watered at the thought of ripping Sigyn's head off.

Loki grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. "Lenore, Sigyn may be a right bitch sometimes, but you can't kill her."

"Why?" she snapped. "Do you still love her?" The thought made her heart tremble with sadness and she felt the bloodlust receding.

"No!" Loki exclaimed. "Don't be crazy, Lenore. I love you. But I just don't need yet _another_bout of drama in my family – and you killing Sigyn would have accomplished such a thing." His lips were pursed in irritation and Lenore could not decide if his aggravation stemmed from her, from Sigyn, or the situation in general.

Feeling frustrated, Lenore crossed her arms. "Fine. Just take me home."

Loki sighed and led her back to _Bifröst_. They did not speak the rest of the night.

* * *

_Reine, Norway,  
December 31, 1910  
_

After their return from Asgard, Lenore had left to visit Angel in an uninhibited area of the Black Forest. It was, in fact, becoming harder and harder to stay away from humans as society advanced and breached the walls of the forest. However, Angel had found a cave in the deep part of the forest that suited him for the time. Still in the process of recovery, he no longer went wild with bloodlust but it was still too early for him to be introduced to humans. Hell, it had taken Lenore a decade of being with Loki before she was able to be near humans and at the time she didn't have an eighth of Angelus' blood-filled memory.

But the reason for her sudden visit had less to do with monitoring her friend's progress and more so because she needed time away from Loki. Her feelings for him had not changed but it was difficult for her to come to grips on the reality of the situation – after all, it was one thing to _know_ he had children and goddesses and a whole other life, it was quite another to actually bear _witness_to it.

Approaching their home in the mountainside, Lenore's sensitive ears picked up the sound of laughter and voices, some of them unrecognizable. Curious, although apprehensive, she made her way to the door and opened it with a ready smile. The ceiling of the den had been raised, apparently in order to allow Loki's son Sleipnir to fit inside. Seated around the fireplace was Loki in his favorite chair, Fenrir on the floor in front of the fire, and a goddess Lenore recognized from Asgard – the pale one with the dark hair. She wore a white dress that fell past her feet and gazed at Lenore with a curious expression. Interestingly enough, Odin was back again and seated across from the goddess.

"Hello," Lenore greeted them all, wondering if they were here for some sort of New Year's Eve event. She and Loki had plans to go sailing over the Pacific to view the arrival of the new year; she had hoped for a romantic outing after the disaster of last week.

"Hi Lenore!" Loki greeted her cheerfully. There was something different about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on…but then she realized it. In his emotive eyes she could sense just how happy he was. Lenore couldn't quite remember if she had ever seen him so joyful. "You've met Odin and Sleipnir, and know Fenrir—"

"—unfortunately," Fenrir muttered.

Lenore frowned. She knew that the great wolf had never liked her, probably in part by how Loki had used him over the years to watch out for her or deliver messages. Still, it bothered her.

Loki glared at his son. "And _this_," he said with a gesture and a smile towards the goddess, "is Hel, my favorite daughter."

"Your only daughter," she commented dryly with a roll of her eyes. Her voice was thin and high, but it carried amusement into it and she sensed that bit of banter was an old tradition between them. Standing up, Hel approached Lenore and examined her; Lenore did the same to her. "I would have liked to have met you last week, but unfortunately my father stole you away just when things were getting fun." The corner of her thin lips quirked slightly, just enough that Lenore began to speculate if Hel was the recipient of Loki's odd sense of humor in the genetics lottery.

"Yes, that is a shame. But it's nice to meet you now," Lenore said with a genuine smile. Gods and goddesses didn't often shake hands, so Hel just inclined her head slightly and sat back down. Lenore went on to greet the others and then looked for a place to sit.

When she noticed all the seats were taken, Loki slapped his legs. "Have a seat, my love," he smirked.

Not particularly comfortable with displays of public affection – especially around Loki's children – Lenore inwardly frowned yet nonetheless sat upon her lover's lap, feeling suddenly shy.

"Odin brought the kids over for a surprise visit, so we were just catching up. I didn't think you'd be back until later," Loki commented.

"My experimentations with teleportation spells have been going more smoothly. I used one to get from the Black Forest to Denmark, then to Finland, and then to here. It was tiring but I think I'm finally getting the hang of it," she smiled.

"I've heard the tales of your talents with magic, Lenore," Odin said gruffly as he readjusted the wide brim of his hat. "You may be unaware, but I know some tricks of the trade as well," he grinned boyishly as he tapped his staff twice on the ground. Instantly a dozen white doves erupted into the air and began to flutter around the room.

Laughing, Lenore clapped her hands. "Well done!" she cheered.

"Puh-lease. That's a magician's trick, Odin," Loki snorted; Fenrir let out a sarcastic bark of laughter as well.

Odin pursed his lips. "Is that so, old friend? Tell me, what do you think of this trick?" Again he tapped his staff twice and suddenly all the doves flew above Loki's head, Lenore was magically pulled across the room, and the dozen doves let loose a volatile amount of white feces all over Loki.

Hel, Fenrir, Sleipnir, Odin, and even Lenore burst out laughing at the unexpected move while Loki glared dangerously at the other god. "Don't start a prank war again, Odin. Remember how that turned out for you last time."

Odin smiled slyly. "Ha! Remember the volcano? I believe I won that war, Loki."

Loki scoffed and snapped his fingers; thereby magically cleansing his body and clothes. "Nuh-uh! Remember when I bespelled your high throne, _Hliðskjálf_, to only allow you to see into the bedchambers of that _jötunn_, Thrivaldi?" Loki positively cackled at the memory, as did his children.

Odin grumbled, although he was still smiling. "That took over a month for me to figure out the counter-spell, you damned creature."

Spreading his hands as if to say "What can ya do?", Loki smiled and then gestured for Lenore to join him again on the chair. Once she was nestled in his arms he began speaking. "So, what are you crazy kids up to tonight? Lenore and I were going to go sailing in the Pacific, want to join?"

Hiding her surprise at his invitation – throughout the course of their friendship and then intimate relationship, they had more or less remained recluses – Lenore watched the reactions of the others. Odin still had a sly smile on his face, Hel appeared surprised, and – well – the horse and the wolf were hard to read.

"I think that sounds fantastic, Loki!" Odin boomed.

"Yes father, that sounds nice." Hel smiled. "I am glad that your status in Asgard has changed."

"How so?" Lenore questioned.

Loki shifted underneath her and wrapped his arms around her. "After the Baldur escapade I, ah, wasn't quite welcome in Asgard – and frankly after what happened to Jörmungandr, Váli, and Narfi, I sure as hell didn't want to."

"With my father's expulsion, all members of Asgard were forbidden from contacting him," Hel explained

Fenrir snorted.

"Not that it really mattered to my brother," she added with a smile at Fenrir.

"I know what happened to Jörmungandr, but who are Váli and Narfi?" Lenore asked.

The atmosphere in the room changed and the air became thick with tension. Odin, noticeably, was staring into the fire and avoiding eye contact. Lenore turned around to face her lover and was surprised by the depth of sadness in his eyes. "Loki?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it." After a beat he added in a strangely light tone, "I think I'm going to go for a run. Fenrir? Sleipnir? Wanna go for a run?"

Both his sons quickly nodded and Loki picked up Lenore, deposited her softly on the chair, and walked out without a backward glance.

Suddenly somber, Lenore asked Odin and Hel, "What did I say?"

Odin sighed and surprisingly Hel who was the first to speak. "Jörmungandr was mine and Fenrir's brother. Early on in his and Baldur's feud, the god of love began spreading rumors that Loki was evil, as were his children." Hel grimaced at the memory. "It did not help, of course, that we were all deformed – monsters, they said."

Puzzled, Lenore looked the dark-haired goddess up and down. She was not as beautiful as some goddesses but she was still nice in her own way. "But you look lovely," Lenore protested.

A bitter laugh escaped Hel's throat and she lifted up the hem of her dress. Instead of creamy pale skin, her legs were mottled and decayed, like a corpse. It took all of Lenore's willpower to not moan at the ungodly sight.

"As you can see, we are all wrong, in a way. Our mother was Angrboda, a jötunn, or giant as you would say. Apparently," she sighed, "even though other gods were able to successfully mate with the jötunn, our father was not. We were the result."

"Anyways," she continued with a wave of her hand, "Baldur's rumors reached Greece and a little known demi-god by the name of Heracles was trying to make a name for himself. He slayed Jörmungandr and our family was devastated – my mother especially so. I imagine that Father would have murdered Heracles if he hadn't been so well-protected by Zeus."

Suddenly Lenore felt ill at the realization that she had slept with the murderer of Loki's son. Yes, she had known about that fact but by all accounts the snake godling was truly evil. "But…I heard that Jörmungandr wanted to destroy the world."

Hel's eyes hardened like flint. "Like I said, that bastard Baldur put in a hell of a time at the rumor mill. Jörmungandr was no more likely to destroy the world than Fenrir – and we all know what the rumors say about _him_," she snorted as she glanced at Odin.

"Yes, the godling may be disobedient at times but I doubt he will really eat me," Odin chuckled.

"Oh," Lenore commented lamely. Now she _really_understood why Loki hated Heracles – besides the fact that she later discovered he was in love with her at that time she was sleeping with the demi-god.

"Then, after Father orchestrated Baldur's death, the other gods sentenced him to be tortured—" Hel's breath caught and Lenore gave her a compassionate look. "They transformed my half-brother – his mother was Sigyn – Váli into a mad wolf who then killed my other half-brother Narfi. Once he regained his sanity, Váli was so sickened by his actions he killed himself."

"Oh my god!" Lenore gasped in horror. "Why would they do such a thing?"

"The laws of gods are not like the laws of man, Lenore," Odin explained with an almost guilty expression. "Certain rules are written and the breaking of our laws requires punishment. Baldur was much loved and the public opinion came down harshly against Loki."

"Worst yet, was I think their deaths hurt my father even more deeply. The sons of Sigyn were unlike my brothers and I – they were perfect, as gods should be, unmarred," Hel spoke in a wistful voice.

"I'm sure Loki doesn't care what his children look like," Lenore said comfortingly.

"This is true," Odin nodded. "Loki always wanted a large brood – his children were his life. That is why, with the breaking of his banishment, I wanted to ensure his children got to visit with him. It has been centuries."

"Oh my," Lenore whispered. She missed her children terribly and could relate to his pain. Why hadn't Loki ever told her of this before?

Odin sighed. "It is a shame that half of his brood has been killed and he cannot have any more. I am sure that fact pains him."

Suddenly confused, Lenore asked, "Why can he not have more children?"

Odin's single eye fixed upon her, the flames of the fireplace reflecting brightly in it. "Why, because of you, my dear. Vampires are unable to bear children. As long as he is with you he will not be allowed to bring more life into this world."

The ancient god's words hit her as heavy as Thor's hammer; causing her to think upon many things…such as, would she ever be able to make Loki as happy as he was earlier, surrounded by all his children?

* * *

A/N:

_References_:  
Sleipnir: .org/wiki/Sleipnir  
_thing_: Nordic gathering  
Geri, Freki: Odin's wolves. He drinks only mead and never eats; all his food is given to them.  
Raising her arms, she hurled yellow liquid at Lenore, but the witch deflected it with her magic. The air stank of electricity and something toxic at the meeting of the liquid and her shield.- This was meant to be snake venom (from the backstory of Sigyn and Loki)  
jötunn: Giant  
Thrivaldi: .org/wiki/Thrivaldi  
*all other lore mentioned has been previously cited or comes from Wikipedia :)


	36. Knowledge is

**Knowledge is _**

_Reine, Norway,  
March 18, 1911  
_

Since Loki's children had come back into his (their) life, things had begun to change. Odin, Sleipnir, Fenrir, and Hel visited regularly and they even all went out on 'family' outings. Of course, unlike the family outings she remembered as Tara (movies or ice skating), their destinations tended to be a bit more exotic, like the middle of the Congo or uninhabited islands. Today they were heading to Austria to observe the second occurrence of International Women's Day.

"And just _why_ are we going to this human celebration?" grumbled Fenrir. In the beginning Lenore could only understand him when they made eye contact but since all of Loki's children had begun spending more and more time here it was becoming easier to hear Fenrir, as if he were speaking out loud. Lenore was unsure if it was because she was growing more accustomed to the wolf, was bonding in some unknown way to Loki, or Fenrir was becoming stronger from the constant familial connection. One day she would have to ask her lover his opinion.

"_Because_, you grumbly mutt. It's a major feminist protest and I thought the ladies would enjoy it. Lenore loves girl power, after all." Loki waggled his brows at her and she rolled her eyes; more than once he had asked if she would be interested in a ménage à trois with one of his girls that he invented. Loki would create girls for his tricks and then deliver her perfect puppy eyes while he asked if Lenore wanted to keep one. Thus far she had not taken him up on that offer.

…Although she did contemplate it upon occasion. After all, it had been a while since she had been with a woman and although sex with Loki was wonderful, there were certain things she missed.

"Besides," boomed Odin. "There'll be plenty of lovely ladies to look upon." The Norse god looked at everyone with a knowing smile. "And perhaps I'll get the chance to do more than just look." He began laughing and Loki cackled along with him.

Hel caught Lenore's eye. "_Honestly_," she huffed. "I believe these two grow more impossible every time they're together." A smile played along her lips.

Lenore smirked at the truth of that statement, although she couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. Sometimes Loki got so caught up with Odin and his friends that she felt he was falling more and more into the pagan ways – and pagan gods were not the nicest people around. Sure, Loki continued to play tricks on arrogant humans once Lenore returned to him ten years or so ago, but she felt like he was becoming crueler. Then again, maybe it was just her.

Sleipnir whinnied in anticipation and Odin patted his steed. "Seems your stallion feels the same way as me, Loki."

"That's why you two make the perfect set of partners in crime," Loki laughed. "Alright, shall we?" He held out his hand to Lenore and she embraced him. Travel via pagan god teleportation was not the most relaxing but it was the quickest. She burrowed her head in Loki's chest and clung to him tightly. A second later her world tilted and they were standing in Vienna, Austria.

Lenore took a step back from Loki, nearly lost her balance, and was relieved when he grasped her arms and pulled her tight. "You really hate my style of travel, don't you?" he asked with a wry smile.

She looked up at him with a suggestive smile. "Not all of it." The part where he held her was always nice. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever tire of his touch.

Loki chuckled and kissed her gently. "I admit I love when your feminist-self needs me once in a while."

Laughing lightly, she shook her head. "I'll always need you," she told him honestly, and with a bit of embarrassment. It was scary to realize that your life wasn't complete without someone.

Harsh barking laughter sounded out behind them.

"I do believe Fenrir thinks you should get a room," Odin jested as he pointed towards the great guffawing wolf.

Loki pivoted to grimace at his son and friend. "Quiet, muttonheads."

Hel's lips curved into a slight smile. "I think it's sweet. It reminds me of how you used to be, Father." Fenrir made a gagging sound.

Placing his arm around Lenore's waist, he walked them towards the pagans. "Fenrir, don't make me put you on a leash," Loki warned, his lips curved into a knowing smirk.

Fenrir shut up after that.

Inside of Vienna lay the Ringstrasse, a circular road that now featured crowds of women parading with banners honoring the martyrs of the Paris Commune on its fortieth anniversary. Immortality could get boring at times so Lenore was quite well versed on current events and knew that the Paris Commune was the government that briefly ruled France after the Revolutionary War. Feminist activism was a strong aspect of the government but the Army of Versailles killed thousands of the commune supporters, simultaneously killing the feminist movement in France for a time. At the time Lenore fed on wicked humans and she killed many soldiers in the Army of Versailles during those dark years.

Lenore and Hel walked now amongst the woman; Lenore was thankful that the women were still celebrating during the night so she could enjoy the festivities; although the sun did not kill her it was not at all pleasant. The men (and wolf and horse) were elsewhere to be found but Lenore was fine with that. Hel was an interesting companion. As the Goddess of the Underworld she possessed a viewpoint on the world that Lenore found very similar to Kali, which was nice.

She still missed Kali sometimes. According to rumors Kali and her consort Shiva were still living together in north India; however, that was all she knew. Perhaps that was for the better, that Kali kept her life separate from Lenore. Although she still loved the goddess she was no longer _in_love with her after all these years.

"Here girls," a buxom older woman said to them as she thrust two sticks carrying white banners into their hands. "Take a banner!" The woman, garbed in a simple dark brown dress, was carrying other banners and appeared to be one of the organizers of the day's events.

Hel stared at the stick in her hands like it was a peculiar bug that landed on her. She turned her dark eyes upon the woman and frowned. "What do I do with this?"

The woman paled as she stared into Hel's face for the first time, and quickly backed away. "D-do whatever you like, my lady!" she stuttered before running elsewhere into the crowd.

Frowning, Hel looked at Lenore. "Am I truly that frightening?" she asked plaintively. Hel was insecure about her appearance and it was clear that the human woman had hurt her.

Lenore fought to figure out a proper explanation. The goddess was beautiful (unless you saw her decaying legs but they were always covered by a long skirt) but Lenore could understand why a mortal would be frightened. Her skin was paler than a vampire's and her eyes contained an otherworldly glow. "Of course not, Hel! It's just, I think humans at some level understand when they're near the supernatural. People have different reactions but the first one is typically fear."

"Then why are they not frightened of you?" Hel queried, her voice soft and reasonable.

Lenore shrugged. "They should be," she admitted. "But for some reason most people don't get scared in our presence unless our teeth are already out. I assume it's part of our predatory skills set. Otherwise, a vampire could not feed easily," she mused.

Hel nodded; that sounded logical to her. "I must admit, I do not understand your reluctance to feed from humans. After all, humans are temporary creations. They will die some day."

Wincing, Lenore swallowed the saliva that thickened in her mouth at Hel's words. Here in this crowd of people the scent of blood overflowed her senses and only the strictest of her meditation techniques worked. "Perhaps that is true but God has not ordained me to be the judge, jury, and executioner of His people."

Amused, a smile flitted across Hel's thin lips before she went back to her typical emotionless expression. "After all this time and all the beings you have interacted with over your long life and you still believe in the Christian God?"

Religion was not a topic Lenore discussed anymore, which created a hollow spot in her heart. Without her clan of vampires – particularly Eli – she had no one to discuss her spirituality with anymore. Loki, for obvious reasons, shunned mention of it in his presence. This hole in her life bothered her deeply, but she tried to ignore it as best as possible. After all, no life was perfect. She may be without her clan but at least now she had Loki.

"How can I not?" Lenore asked, her brow raised and a smile playing along her lips. "This world is so chaotic at the same time it is glorious. The sun, the earth, the stars, the moon; I doubt these are random creations." Furthermore – although Lenore was forbidden to say it – she _knew_that God existed because she happened to be living with one of his archangels.

Although, sometimes knowledge can make matters confusing. There was certainly a degree of dissonance between the concept of the God that Lenore had grown up knowing and whose work she had done as she led her animal drinkers clan, and the God that Gabriel spoke of leaving.

"Hmm."

Hel's thin black hair hung over the side of her face that was facing Lenore, and she brushed it motherly out of the way. "Hel, what's your opinion on creation?"

Breaking out into a sudden smile, Hel looked at her like she was mad. "Lenore, I am Hel of the Norse pantheon – clearly Odin and his brothers were the creators of this world."

Interesting. Lenore did not think that a pagan god or goddess would automatically adhere to their own beliefs. But then again, as the years passed by, if they did not believe in themselves – and neither did the humans – then would they just fade away?

"I have to say, I have not asked much about your stories," Lenore admitted. "How did Odin create the world?" She frowned. "And I was not aware that he had any brothers."

Hel laughed, her alto voice producing a low chuckle. "I am surprised that Father has not spoken to you of this. You two have known each other for centuries."

"Your father is not an easy man to get to know," Lenore reminded her with a harsh laugh. She was over the pain of betrayal that Loki had once dealt her when she was exposed to his angelic past but that did not mean she did not regret taking so long to be informed.

Hel's dark eyes glanced to her, studying her; Lenore wondered what the goddess saw. Although Lenore likened Hel to a child – because she was a child; Loki's child – she knew that the goddess was far older than her. This being had witnessed over a thousand years on this earth and in comparison Lenore was barely a babe.

This was a fact that Lenore was reminded of at this moment, with Hel's intense interest currently focused on her.

Finally Hel looked ahead and then began leading Lenore aware from the crowded streets. "The _Eddas_say that Odin was the eldest of two brothers, Vili and Vé, born from Bestla and Borr. The brothers were refuges—"

"—From who?" Lenore inquired. She could not imagine Odin, who was not only powerful but fierce and good-natured, running away from anything.

Pursing her lips, Hel shook her head. "Truthfully, I do not know. That was never in the stories I heard."

Lenore nodded and mentally added that to a list of questions she planned on asking Loki at some point.

"After the brothers left, they created Asgard and, stories say, created the world." Hel smirked, an almost terrifying look on the goddess of the underworld's face. "Of course, that fact lies in dispute since everyone's god kings say they're responsible for the creation of the world."

Lenore let out a small laugh. "Indeed they do." The two women walked in silence for a while, ambling through the cobbled paths of Vienna. After a while Lenore's curiosity broke free of her restraints. "And your father? Who do they say created him?"

Hel looked at her sharply, the concaves of her oval, thin face shadowed in the darkness of the night. "No one knows," she replied, her voice lowering an octave. "They say that he appeared to Odin, a refugee himself, and stated that Odin owed him a great favor. Thus Odin gave him a place at his table in Asgard. Although," she mused, "while they are great friends there has always been a tension to their relationship that I have yet to understand."

"And you have never asked your father?"

The goddess' eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Lenore's keen vampire eyes noticed the movement. "Yes, but each time he tells a different story. He does not like to talk about it."

Lenore made a humming noise of acknowledgement as her thoughts turned to Hel's story. She knew that Loki had been a refugee when he left Heaven but she wondered what favor Odin would have owed an angel…and did that mean that Odin knew Loki's secret?

Hel and Lenore meandered on throughout the streets, the air becoming stiller as they departed farther from the celebrations in the Ringstrasse. After a while they heard muffled shrieks coming from a dilapidated apartment building. Lenore, ever the righteous one, went to inspect the scene while Hel obliged her whim and followed. Crossing over the building's threshold the scent of human blood struck the air, and Lenore gagged. Immediately her mouth filled with saliva and her fangs jutted through her gums. She stood, motionless, as her desire to feed combated with her desire to do good.

"Lenore?" Hel's cool hand grabbed her elbow. "Are you alright?"

Eyes clenched closed, Lenore shook her head. If she spoke she would have to breathe in more air. If she breathed in more air the desire to feed would become uncontrollable.

_Om Krīm Kālyai namaḥ ,  
Om Kapālinaye Namah,  
Om Hrim Shrim Krim Parameshvari Kalike Svaha  
_

She mentally chanted to herself her long-practiced mantra and fought for control of her body. Eventually her teeth receded and Lenore backed out of the home and into the fresh air.

A shiver ran through her at the realization of how difficult that task had been. A second shiver rant through her as she contemplated what was happening in that building.

"I have heard of your strength of will before but had yet to witness it. That was quite impressive, Lenore," Hel told her, her voice in awe.

Lenore looked away. Impressive? She was ashamed that she was so weak in the first place to even react like that at the smell of blood.

"We should leave her and go find the others. I think I would like to go home," Lenore whispered urgently, all the while praying silently for the strength to adhere to her convictions.

Hel glanced from Lenore to the building. "They are not far from us, in there to be exact," she informed Lenore with a slight gesture of her hand. "I can feel their presence."

Something bitter clung to the back of Lenore's throat. "In…there?" Maiming, killing?

Hel whistled, a clear and high note, and several moments later an upstairs window opened – bringing with it the fresh scent of death. Loki's face peered out and smiled in surprise at seeing them; with her gifted eyesight Lenore noticed a light splattering of blood on his cheek.

"Oh, hey there ladies!" Loki grinned.

"Lenore is ready to leave, and I am as well."

Odin's face joined Loki's in the open window. "Good timing, girls. Fenrir just had his fun punishing a banker."

Loki waggled his eyebrows. "Get it? A banker getting eaten by a wolf? Perfect justice," he smirked.

Lenore's lips straightened into a thin line before deepening into a scowl. "That sounds positively biblical," she remarked casually, feeling a cold fury within her soul.

Loki blanched at her inference to his past. "We'll be out soon." Both he and Odin ducked back into the room and shut the window.

"Do you not approve of my father's tricks?" Hel inquired casually, her gaze barely brushing Lenore's distraught expression.

Lenore paused. "I know what your father does, Hel." Which was true. She knew what and who Loki was – an archangel who spent thousands of years punishing the wicked and now a pagan trickster god who did the same.

The dark goddess moved closer, the hem of her black empire-waist dress swishing across the stone road. "I see. But you have never witnessed it before, have you?"

Hel's gaze was heavy and Lenore could not bear it; she looked away. "No," she answered.

A friendly hand caressed her bare arm. "It is who he is, Lenore. Do not love him any less for it – he loves you a great deal."

Lenore shut her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "I know, Hel. I know."

But knowing and _knowing_ were two very different things.

* * *

**A/N**:  
Thank you for reading! :)

_References_:

*"The following year, on 18 March, 1911, IWD was marked for the first time, by over a million people in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland. In the Austro-Hungarian Empire alone, there were 300 demonstrations[3] In Vienna, women paraded on the Ringstrasse and carried banners honoring the martyrs of the Paris Commune.[3] Women demanded that women be given the right to vote and to hold public office. They also protested against employment sex discrimination.- .org/wiki/International_Women%27s_Day  
*The Ringstraße (or Ringstrasse) is a circular road surrounding the Innere Stadt district of Vienna, Austria and is one of its main sights. It is typical of the historical style called Ringstraßenstil (Ringstraße Style) of the 1860s to 1890s. - .org/wiki/Ringstrasse  
*The Paris Commune was a government that briefly ruled Paris from March 18 (more formally, from March 28) to May 28, 1871. It existed before the split between anarchists and Marxists had taken place, and it is hailed by both groups as the first assumption of power by the working class during the Industrial Revolution. Debates over the policies and outcome of the Commune contributed to the break between those two political groups.- .org/wiki/Paris_Commune  
*Lóðurr: .org/wiki/L%C3%B3%C3%B0urr  
*Hœnir: .org/wiki/H%C5%93nir  
*Vili and Vé: .org/wiki/Vili_and_V%C3%A9 (Odin's brothers)  
*Bestla: .org/wiki/Bestla (Mother of the Gods)  
*Borr: .org/wiki/Borr (Father of the gods)  
*Æsir: .org/wiki/%C3%86sir (Principal pantheon of the Norse gods)  
*Lenore's chanting was developed on the day she met Kali, who taught her the mantra.


	37. The More Things Change…

**The More Things Change…**

_April 10, 1912  
Southampton, England  
_

The sun had risen an hour ago but the clouds obscured most of the harmful rays, allowing Lenore to walk through the busy docks of Southampton without much pain. Today she dressed like a wealthy woman, with a sleek white and blue pinstriped dress and a white church hat with a wide brim that, if the sun did peek out, would hide her effectively from its rays. She breathed in the air, smelling of salt water and coal; the trademark scents of any dock boasting several steamships. Of course, this particular dock held a particular steamship that she had only heard of in history class and in the most famous movie of her time – The Titanic.

"Lenore, why did you want to come here? It's so depressing," Loki grimaced as he clasped her hand. He wore a dapper black suit with a dark blue tie that stood in stark contrast to his warm amber eyes.

"Loki, it's history, that's why," she rebuffed him. She and Willow had loved the Leo and Kate movie (gay or straight, it was one of the best love stories ever) and when she realized the actual ship was about to set sail, she had to visit.

"It's not history yet," he reminded her. Loki studied her silently. "You do realize that as we begin to approach your other lifetime that you're bound to remember lots of historical events, right?" His tone was even and measured; she could not decipher it.

"Well, yes. I know," Lenore answered him, curious as to why he would ask that.

He stopped walking just then and pulled her gently to look at him. "Then you know that you can't change history, right? You can't do anything to impact the timelines," Loki reminded her in a serious voice.

Lenore shook her head and glared at him, feeling rather defensive. "It's not as though I plan telling the captain to look out for a bloody iceberg, Loki," she hissed quietly, all too aware that dozens of people were milling in the vicinity, some coming so close as to brush against her back. "And I don't appreciate being treated like a child. I know what I'm doing."

Loki shut his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "That wasn't what I meant. But I know this 'seer' business of yours is only going to get worse, Lenore. I just want you to be careful," he explained tiredly.

She pressed her lips together, wishing she could take back the way she had spoken to him. "You're right. I'm sorry." Lenore leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss. His hand slid up to hold the back of her neck and he pressed her closer, deepening the kiss. Lenore let out a little moan of pleasure and her hand tangled in his hair.

When they pulled away they were both smiling. "I love when you get mad at me," Loki smirked.

Lenore huffed and began leading him farther down the docks. "You are simply incorrigible, my dear Trickster."

"Oh yes," Loki murmured as he took in the sight of her womanly form sashaying down the wooden path.

Looking back, Lenore giggled. Her lover could be so silly at times.

Fifteen minutes later they were immersed in the madness of the loading dock for the Titanic. The ship was immense and more breathtaking than what the movies even suggested it to be. It was longer than seventy-five automobiles lined end to end and towered almost two-hundred feet above them, if she counted the four majestic funnels that stood like valiant soldiers in a row. She could feel the presence of hundreds of people in the ship, working in the lower echelon of the construction. Hundreds more clambered onto the ship, carrying an assortment of luggage, children, or sometimes nothing at all. The noise was deafening – and not just their voices but the beating of so many hearts at once.

There were so many souls here.

Tears formed in Lenore's eyes as that simple realization struck her with the piercing pain of an icicle, cold and sharp. As Tara she had heard about the tragedy of the Titanic, but now that she was here, listening to its future victims…

"Mommy, mommy, Victoria stole my doll!"

"Give it back sweetheart or else I'll tell the captain to make you sleep outside."

"Do you have the tickets?"

"Here, help me carry this."

"I'll take that, darling."

"Does my dress look alright? What shall I wear for dinner tonight?"

"I heard they even have a _swimming_pool."

Lenore felt Loki wrap his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulders. The weight of his presence behind her brought her back to reality and she sought to control her emotions. "These poor people," she whispered.

"Want me to take you home?" Loki asked gently.

"No." Lenore shook her head. "I want to stay a while." Perhaps she would be able to tell this story to Willow one day.

Lenore listened to the humans prepare for departure; the symphony of fond farewells, delight, and worry. But then something almost inaudible echoed into her sensitive ears – a scream.

"Where did that come from?" Lenore inquired, her senses on alert.

Loki closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he concentrated on the noise. "From within the ship, only one floor below deck."

Lenore zeroed in on the sound and heard the scream turn to struggling gasps…and the distinct sound of something growling. "Loki, someone's being attacked. We should help," she stated urgently.

He hesitated, biting his lip. "Lenore, we can't change the—"

"—the future, yes I know. But if that was the case then I never should have saved any of the lives I should have. Come now, it's just one person," Lenore pleaded, her eyes never wavering from hers.

Loki sighed. "Fine." He snapped his fingers and they were suddenly on board below deck, alarming an older woman and her teenage son.

"My stars!" the woman shrieked.

"Howdy!" Loki grinned amicably with a tip of his black hat. Then he steered Lenore down the hall and towards the sounds of the person under attack.

"Here." Lenore glanced down the hall, seeing no one was close by, and whispered an incantation to open the door. It swung open, revealing a vampire sucking into a middle-aged man while a young blond-haired woman looked on, disheveled and dazed from her slumped position against the wall.

"Hey!" Lenore shouted. "Back off!" The creature turned to her and Lenore gasped at the sight, for there in front of her was her old ally Déshèng who had abandoned her after Bilquis killed his progeny Alka. In fact, it was Déshèng who had ordered her to leave the clan after she failed to kill him.

Déshèng blinked, a rather comical look on the five foot three vampire's bloodied face with his glistening fangs. "Lenore. What are you doing here?" he asked scathingly.

"You know him?" Loki asked in shock.

"Déshèng was a council member of my clan…before he ordered me away," Lenore explained, her body going rigid at the memory.

Throwing the man onto the bed; the man breathing his last breaths after Déshèng's attack, the vampire sneered at her. "Ordered you away because you _failed_ us, Lenore. Alka, the others…all dead because of you, when it should have been _you_."

Lenore let out an angry grunting noise at his words. "I admitted back then that I erred and explained how I had been held captive by those working for Bilquis. But this is how you honor Alka's memory? By feeding on humans again?"

"These _humans_ are _hunters_!" Déshèng spat. "They have been chasing me for six months and today I will have it no more. They deserve death – first the man and then his daughter."

The blond girl, no more than sixteen years old, was glaring at Déshèng and gritting her teeth.

"You cannot harm her. That is the code," Lenore snapped.

Déshèng moved like lightning and struck her cheek. "_YOUR_code, Lenore! Your code! It is unnatural, for us to live like this. Your entrance into our lives all those years ago was a curse!"

Loki growled and threw Déshèng against the back wall, the plaster cracking at the impact. "Touch her again and it's your head, vampire." Pure power trickled out of Loki, filling the room until it's pressure was a heavy touch against her skin.

The scent of blood, dying blood, and power and anger were making Lenore feel light-headed – and there was something familiar about the scent of this blood, but she could not identify what. "I only sought to make things better for us all!" she half-shouted, half-pleaded. Lenore would do anything to get Déshèng to stop staring at her with that undiluted hatred in his eyes. They may have quarreled often over the right course of action in their council meetings but Déshèng had always been a friendly ally to her.

"You were a fool," Déshèng countered.

"Then you were the fool that followed her!" Loki hissed, his voice like snakes snapping to bite at the Chinese vampire.

"Loki, I can handle this," Lenore whispered, her voice shaky but sure.

Loki glanced at her and she could see that he understood, even if he didn't like it.

"Leave now, Déshèng. Leave without hurting these humans further and we can avoid each other for all of eternity, if that is what you wish," Lenore offered, her voice falling like raindrops into the river, becoming more powerful with each word spoken.

Déshèng laughed cruelly and shook his head. "I will leave…after the chit gets it." He leapt for the girl but Lenore intercepted him and kicked him backwards.

"And for that, you will die Lenore," Déshèng growled, clearly looking for any reason to battle her.

"Déshèng, please," Lenore begged, unwilling to engage in bloodshed after so many years of refrain. But then Déshèng leapt at her and she knew there was no choice. Lenore pivoted away gracefully, a fairly easy task in the large first-class quarters, and gestured for Loki to move back – if Déshèng had to die than Lenore would do it herself; she could not rely on her lover for everything.

Her former ally roared towards her, his arms slashing down in precise kung-fu moves – which was ironic because Déshèng had been one of the people who had instructed Lenore in kung-fu. She pushed backwards on the balls of her feet, her hand catching her before she hit the ground, and swept her legs under Déshèng's feet. Jumping up, Lenore looked for the closest weapon.

"Here!" the girl shouted, her voice stronger than Lenore would have thought at this moment. It just went to show her how much stronger hunters were than regular humans – no matter what they faced, they faced it with a level head. A jeweled dagger sailed through the air and Lenore caught it before dancing backwards to avoid Déshèng's own knife.

"Don't make me do this," Lenore asked once more in a quavering voice.

Déshèng let out a harsh laugh. "What are you afraid of? Won't you go to your god when you die?" he asked mockingly.

"He's your god, too," Lenore retorted as she parried a slash towards her midsection. But even as the words left her lips, she knew them to be a lie. Anya had explained to Lenore and Fergus years ago about Purgatory and Lenore knew she would never get to heaven – nor would any other of her brethren.

That sidetracked thought allowed Déshèng to slash across her back and she tried to twist away from him, bringing with it fresh pain and a spray of blood from the deep cut. She was fortunate he missed her spine.

Lenore leapt onto the nearby wall and pushed off, flipping over Déshèng and landing at his back. Without another wasted moment, Lenore cut into Déshèng's neck, severing his head completely.

Shaky hands dropped the dagger and Lenore let out a brief sob at the grotesque image surrounding her. This was not what she had wanted, ever. She collapsed onto the ground and prayed for forgiveness, and begged god to help her other former clan members; she prayed ardently that Eli and Kitra and the others had not turned to dark ways.

"Lenore?"

She waved away Loki's words. Lenore couldn't deal with him now. Although she loved him, Loki was an outsider in all of this. He did not understand why it was evil to kill humans nor why she would feel guilty that one of her clan members would stray. After all, he, Odin, and the children regularly engaged in vicious acts.

Lenore wasn't sure how long she had sat there praying, with only Loki's silence, the girl's breathing, and the dying man's jolted breaths, as the only sounds; but suddenly a vision passed through her mind's eye. Visions had been common ever since she was a human and since she turned vampire she could see the moment when each of her descendents died and glimpsed a bit of their life. It was the only way she could keep track of her brethren and while she did not write these family trees onto paper (for security reasons) she had a perfect mental image.

The man she saw now was named Ryan Campbell, a well-muscled man with a graying mustache and silver hair that he shorn just above his ears. He was a descendent of Dawn's, her youngest child that had almost died as a babe (had it not been for Loki's interference). Ryan's wife had died in a vampire attack years ago and now he traveled the world with his only daughter, Anne, and they both hunted vampire together; which was a tradition he had grown up with. But his life ended today at the hands of a vampire…

Lenore let out a choking sob and her eyes immediately sought out the humans in the room – well, the one human and her dead father.

Lenore's descendents.

She swallowed heavily, now realizing why Ryan Campbell's blood had smelled so familiar – it was the blood of her kin.

The girl, Anne, was sitting on the bed, holding her father's hands and crying quietly. Lenore looked upon her with her second sight and saw a brilliant red and blue pulsing aura shining around the girl's head. Anne possessed none of her families' magical traits but she was a hunter, make no mistake about it. But there was something peaceful about the girl and Lenore reckoned that she would make and excellent doctor or nurse someday (until the women's revolution started the girl was more likely to become a nurse, she supposed).

"I'm sorry for your father's death," Lenore spoke softly, the sincerity ringing out as she looked upon her descendant's corpse; not since Drusilla was killed in front of her had Lenore witnessed such a terrible occurrence in front of her eyes.

The girl looked up, her blue eyes shining with wet tears. "Thank you for killing that beast." An angry noise passed her lips. "I _hate_vampires."

Lenore sighed softly, knowing that it was better for her daughter's daughter to hate her kind rather than risk her to soften her stance and be open to vulnerabilities. "Well you're safe now."

But then as the words passed through Lenore's lips a painful sensation circled in her chest. She looked up at Loki, seeing his expression taut and stern. "Are you…are you going to America?" Lenore asked the girl, this Anne girl that was of her blood.

"Yes. We have cousins there," Anne nodded.

"Perhaps you should take the next ship. This one is bad luck," Lenore offered, trying her hardest to sound casual.

"Lenore!" Loki barked, clearly angry that she was attempting to change Fate.

Anne looked from Lenore to Loki, and back again. "I cannot miss my meeting. My family is expecting me. Why would you say I should leave?" Anne asked, puzzled.

"I—"

"Lenore, we should go. Now."

She shook away Loki's sudden grasp on her arm.

"I just, well, with your father's death…Perhaps this is not an idea time to travel," Lenore stated weakly.

But Anne was stubborn – ah, what a trait to inherit. She and her father looked nothing like Dawn, nor Lenore, but inheritable characteristics included more than just physical appearances.

"No, I won't let this vampire stop me. I have no family in England, anyway." Anne looked down sadly at her father. "Not anymore."

"But Anne—" Lenore wanted to beg, wanted to plead with her daughter's daughter to stay here and take a different ship. After all, Lenore owned a small fortune in her Wolfram and Hart accounts; she could take care of Anne until the next ship departed.

Anne looked at her sharply. "How do you know my name?" she asked in a calculated and cold voice.

Lenore recoiled, angry at her misstep. "I…one of the crewmen, he told me."

"And how did you know I was here? Or that we were in trouble?" Anne stood up, her gaze hardened. "Are you Hunters? Or…are you something we hunt?"

If Lenore had to breathe to live, she would die soon because her lungs were on pause and she couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The accusations in Anne's eyes reminded her of Elspeth's, when her second cousin was on her death bed.

_Oh, how the more things change, the more they stay the same…_

"That's it, we're going," Loki stated in a determined voice as he grasped her upper arms and teleported them back home in the Norwegian mountains.

Over the next four days Lenore was frantic, weaving a path outside in the woods as she walked back and forth in fear and anger and suffering. It did not help that Loki was angry at her for failing to adhere to her promise not to attempt to change the timelines. But Lenore could not help it! She could not let someone she loved die! Not again!

In the back of her mind she wondered just how she would be able to refrain from interfering in roughly ninety years when she met Willow.

There was one ray of moonlight to brighten her mood – April 14th came and went, with no visions of Anne's death. Her descendent survived the sinking of the Titanic, and for that Lenore was most thankful for God's mercy.


	38. Fate's a Bitch

**Fate's a Bitch**

Fanart by the amazingly talented and entirely generous Christytrekkie. This can be found at Fanart, Fear Not the Multiverse. She also created various versions of the banner (SO COOL!) and how Lenore looked like at the New Year's Eve ball in Italy and how Lenore looked like at the Valhalla dinner party. YAY! Thank you so much Christy! ps: everyone should check out her work and leave a review! :) (NOTE: This can all be found on Twisting the Hellmouth and my posting there for "Living as Lenore". Sadly, ffnet does not allow pictures to be embedded)

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
May 7, 1912_

"Good morning."

Lenore shifted, burying her face into her pillow, at the sound of the soft masculine voice. Vampires did not need a great deal of sleep, especially at her age; but that didn't make mornings any easier. She mumbled in response, "Morning"; her voice a husky tone of sleepiness.

Chuckling lowly, Loki pushed Lenore's hair off of her neck and began brushing his lips against her sensitive skin. Again Lenore shifted, but this time it was for a different reason. She smiled against the pillow's surface and reveled in the feel of Loki's touch. His hand trailed down her bare back, leaving shivers in its wake, and his lips followed the path.

Suddenly, Lenore was completely awake, and in the best way possible. Giggling, she turned over to see Loki gazing at her with devotion – and a hint of mischievousness.

"Uh-oh," she breathed softly as she raised a questioning brow. "What are you planning?"

Smirking, Loki bent down and pressed his lips firmly against Lenore's. Letting out a moan of content, Lenore wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. His bare chest warmed her own – not to mention other parts of her.

"Happy birthday," Loki whispered as he nibbled gently on her earlobe.

Lenore grinned. Loki always did make her birthdays the best.

* * *

Many hours later they were laying out under the waning moon at a gorgeous beach in the Hawaiian Islands. Loki was sipping a fruity drink with a pink umbrella sticking out and Lenore was drinking _Mortemzilina _blood; one of those reptilian creatures from Quor'toth, that they purchased through Wolfram and Hart. Loki had ordered several of the beasts through her account representative, Vishvini Patil, a descendent of her original account holder – if there was one thing Lenore valued it was loyalty and she strove to hire only the members of the original family.

Of course, Lenore had to admit that the reason partly stemmed from the fact that the Patils were her only remaining connection to Kali. It was the goddess who had helped Lenore open the account back in 1929…

On her birthday. It was on her birthday that Kali had helped her open the account.

Lenore froze in place as old memories assaulted her senses. Kali was someone she had fought for many years to forget, but forgetting Kali on her birthday was always especially difficult. After all, she had met Kali on her birthday in 1714.  
_  
Kali glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and Lenore got the impression that she was amused. "What is the purpose of life?"_

Lenore frowned. On one hand she didn't understand Kali's comments and she was getting frustrated. On the other hand she knew that there had to be something more to what the wise goddess was saying but Lenore just couldn't comprehend her greater meaning.

"The purpose is…to help others. To live a good life," she answered at last.

Kali stopped at the outskirts of the crowd and turned to Lenore. "Souls enter a cyclical pattern of life and death, but it is what they do in-between the two that matter most and will shape their next life."

She ran Kali's words through her head as she sought to understand. "So…if I am cursed in this life than I must have done something wrong as Tara in my past life. Why else would I be forced to suffer this way?"

Sighing, Kali cradled Lenore's cheek. "All souls are caught within the never-ending cycle. The sun will always rise and set just as the moon will do the same. But what came first: the sun or the moon?"

"I-I don't know," Lenore mumbled as a feeling of vulnerability passed through her as Kali's eyes watched her intently.

A soft smile graced her face. "You do, but that knowledge is not yet needed." She brushed lips as soft as a rose over Lenore's lips, and the vampire shuddered in response. Lenore's heart leapt in her chest and for the first time in this lifespan her knees weakened from a simple kiss.

That first kiss had inflamed Lenore. It had been the first consensual sexual contact she had ever received in her forty-two years of life. Kali had been…A soft smile graced Lenore's face before she could finish the thought. Kali truly was one of a kind.

_Kali's head cocked to the side and spoke in a throaty voice that heated the spark that flared when she had first seen the goddess. "May I have you?"_

Lenore licked her lips in surprise as she discerned the meaning of those words, and then her heart flared with warmth at the sudden feeling of what it was like for a partner to ask and not to take. She blinked back the unexpected tears and nodded as she tentatively cupped the goddess' cheek with her own hand.

"Yes."

Lenore's skin felt hot as she remembered Kali's touch that night. Vivid memories of Kali's silky hair falling across Lenore's stomach, the light flickering of tongue against her breast, the heat behind her kiss…Lenore wet her lips at the memory.

"Hey."

Lenore swallowed heavily and turned to Loki, her memories dissipating quicker than the morning fog. He was giving her a curious and almost cautious look.

"You looked like you were a million miles away. Are you not enjoying your birthday plans?" Loki asked.

Lenore forced a smile. "Of course!" The answer was honest, because she _was_having fun, but the guilt of realizing she was thinking about her ex-lover right next to her current lover hit her quickly.

Hmm. She was struck by the random thought that maybe this was why Loki always went all out on her birthdays – so she wouldn't think of Kali.

"I'm just going to take a quick run," Lenore said with a bright smile. "Those Quor'toth beasts give me so much energy."

Amber eyes examined her and then Loki shrugged. "Alright., Have fun!" he grinned as he raised his cocktail in salute.

Nodding, Lenore set off to run along the edge of the beach, her feet slapping in the low water. She began humming to herself an old mantra, one that rarely used anymore.  
_  
'Om Krīm Kālyai namaḥ ,  
Om Kapālinaye Namah,  
Om Hrim Shrim Krim Parameshvari Kalike Svaha'_

Lenore wasn't sure how much time passed as she mentally repeated the mantra but it felt like several hours. Then a sharp feeling crashed into her skull, causing Lenore to stumble and fall onto the wet sand. A bright lit filled her inner eye and then the scene snapped into a black abyss. Finally, the blackness brightened and Lenore saw a scene of people in her mind's eye.

It was Eli. He was dressed in only thin pants and surrounded by a jungle canopy. His eyes were darkened with stress and a weariness that causes the soul to suffer more than the body. Half a dozen other vampires wandered with him, their hands holding tightly onto several monkeys that they had captured; one vampire was already drinking from the animal. Birds suddenly began to squaw and the vampires looked up in terror. Then, a steel sword with crude engravings sliced into Eli's neck; her friend's head tumbled like a morose soccer ball.

The last image she saw was his dark eyes trained on her, silently pleading. Then the world shifted, the sharp pain in her skull faded, and Lenore found herself lying down in the sand. Like an eye, the moon stared down at her, its silvery light suddenly feeling oppressive to her sensitive eyes. Lenore shook off the feeling of unease and panic as she sat up, but all she could see was Eli's imminent death.

"But it can't be," Lenore whispered softly in disbelief. Her visions were of her family and that was it, regardless if others viewed her as a prophetess – only because they did not know her past life occurred in the twentieth century. So perhaps what she had seen would not come to pass…

Unless Kali gave her that vision. Dammit, how could Lenore be so foolish as to repeat Kali's mantra? That was like a welcome invitation!

Except…Lenore had used it for decades after Kali left her. Hell, she had even used it a few times in the last decade when she felt particularly overwhelmed by the scent of human blood – it always had a calming effect on her.

Dammit. She needed to talk to Loki.

* * *

"Lenore, I've heard you tell the story three times now, but I just don't understand why you're so sure Eli's death will come to pass. In all your centuries you've never had a vision like this before." Loki's calm amber eyes assessed Lenore's pacing body. They were already back home, in Reine, after Lenore had frantically described the details of her vision. However, Loki was cynical of it all.

"That's not quite true," Lenore replied quietly as she looked into her lover's eyes. "That night I tried to call for you to help against Bilquis, I saw you in Aphrodite's arms."

Paling, Loki's lips parted briefly before he pressed them tightly together. "Yeah, well, that was, that was just once." His nostrils flared; Lenore knew he hated to be reminded of the spell the now-dead Goddess of Love had placed upon him.

"Was once. Now is twice. Loki, I have to find Eli." Lenore nervously bit her lip and pushed back a strand of her black hair. Her eyes strayed to the flickering fireplace as her mind traveled to old memories. "Eli is my oldest friend and was loyal to me for many years."

"Loyal to you until he wasn't," Loki snorted meanly; but she knew his anger was reserved for Eli's defection to Déshèng and the others.

Lenore was silent. She had no answer for that. Eli's betrayal had been very difficult and it had carved out a piece of her heart, there was no mistake about that. Still… "I can't let him die," she confessed, her voice breaking at the last syllable. "No matter what happened."

He stared at her, searching, for a long moment before he sighed deeply. "And how will you go about finding him, hmm?" Loki asked wearily. "All you saw was a forest and monkeys. There are plenty of those." He plopped into his favorite sitting chair and gave her an expectant look.

"Well…" Lenore shrugged. "Magic, I suppose. I could do a location spell."

"Yeah, you could," Loki replied guardedly.

She flashed him a sharp look. "Why aren't you being more supportive, Loki? Especially because can't you find anyone, Mr. Angel?" she asked him.

Pursing his lips, Loki leaned forward. "I'm not exactly tied into the whole heavenly system anymore, Lenore. In case you forgot, I wasn't even able to find you after the Alpha stole you."

Lenore shivered at his name and turned away. Regardless of the centuries that had passed, the pain of her moments with Aurelius were still there, buried deep.

She felt a warm hand encircle her upper arm and soon Loki was nuzzling her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to mention him."

Lenore went still, just breathing in Loki's familiar scent of fresh pine and earth as she pushed back those memories from her twenties. Damn, two hundred years later and that beast _still_gave her the shivers. She was just thankful to God that no one had heard from Aurelius in all that time – it was her sincere wish that he was dead. Probably not with her luck, but she could hope.

She laid her arm on his thigh and pressed close to him. "It's alright. I'm okay." Eventually Lenore stood up. "I'm going to prepare some ingredients for the spell. Can you at least try to help with your own magic?"

Balking, Loki nodded. "Y-Yes, of course, Lenore! I just don't want you to get your hopes up. But I'll try." He gave her a confident smile. "It'll be alright."

Giving him a thin smile, she shrugged. "I hope so."

* * *

_**Perspective Change ~ Loki**_

_Asgard, Highest of the Nine Worlds  
May 12, 1912_

"Something on your mind, blood brother?"

Gabriel looked up at Odin and scowled at his concerned expression. The two of them were hanging out in _Valaskjalf_, Odin's great silver hall in Asgard drinking sweet honey mead in front of a grandiose fireplace. Geri and Freki, Odin's mighty wolves, sat on each side of Odin's chair dozing quietly. The only sound was the cracking of firewood and each slurp of mead.

"No," Gabriel muttered. He and Odin were close – or rather, as close as Gabriel could be with anyone, besides Lenore – but Gabriel was reluctant to say anything. Odin was crafty and one could never be sure what the one-eyed god would do with sensitive information.

A low rumble of laughter fell past Odin's thin lips and he twirled bits of his long, gray beard between his fingers. "Ah, is your vampire upset with you?"

Gabriel glared at him. He hated how Odin tended to refer to Lenore as "the vampire." Yeah, sure, she was a vampire, but she was a hell of a lot more than that.

"Oh honestly, Gabriel," Odin snorted. "What did you do this time?"

"Nothing!" Gabriel snapped. "Can't a man just relax with some mead without getting interrogated?" Honestly, when Odin had issued the invitation to his hall, Gabriel had taken it just to get out of the house, but now he was regretting that.

Odin glanced around, but they both knew no one else was here but them. That was the standard procedure for them, lest they not be able to speak freely. "You and I both know you're not a man, Gabriel. Or a god, for that matter," Odin said with a discerning look.

"Yeah, like you're a god," Gabriel bristled. Odin smirked and Gabriel waved his hand in the air. "Whatever. Man, god, angel, I deserve some peace and quiet."

"Mmm-hmmm," Odin muttered playfully as he sipped more of his honey mead.

"Fine," Gabriel grumbled as he glared at Odin. "I…have a problem."

"Yeah, well, they do say admittance is the first step," Odin joked with a toothy smile.

"Dammit Odin, I'm trying to be serious here!"

Sighing, Odin raised a brow and motioned for Gabriel to continue.

"I feel like I'm going to lose Lenore."

A beat passed, then two. Gabriel felt himself get more nervous with each moment of silence.

"Well, I cannot say I am surprised," Odin shrugged.

"Wait, what?" Gabriel questioned in surprise. That had not been the reaction he had wanted to hear!

"Lenore is…a marvelous creature but better than you, Gabriel. Anyone with a hint of Heaven in them can tell she's meant for something big. And you're out of that game."

Odin's words felt like a troll hammer to the chest. Gabriel's hand curled into a fist and he fought to control his reaction. Sure, he was the adorable funny younger bro of the four archangels, but he had one hell of a smite-ful temper.

"You don't know that," Gabriel said between gritted teeth.

Odin shrugged. "No, I don't," he admitted. "I've been cut out of _that_f old."

The unsaid accusation against Gabriel hung in the air, heavy like smoke that blackened Gabriel's Grace. But he shrugged it off, because that topic was an old song and dance for them. Every couple centuries Odin liked to bring that up, but hey, you can't change the past.

"Well, I'll prevent it. I already interfered in her location spell. She won't find the other vampires." Gabriel frowned as he tapped his fingers against the chair's armrest. He knew what he did was wrong, but he didn't have much of a choice. If Lenore walked down that path then only death would follow – and he couldn't live without her. When Kali had taken Lenore, he thought he had lost her for good. Then, he had been too scared to make her his and tempt Fate. But now, she was his and he would fight against all three of those stuck-up sisters if he had to.

"And if she asks for someone else's help?" Odin asked, his single eye focused on Gabriel's expression. "She will find the vampires eventually."

"But they'll be dead by then." Not that Gabriel wanted them dead, but they were the key to Lenore's Fate; he could feel it, and he didn't mourn their loss if it meant his Lenore was kept intact.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he fucking hated Kali for putting Lenore on her path. Yeah, what was done was done. And yeah, Lenore had done things that had changed her for the better, blah-blahdedy-blah. But at the end of the day she was at risk now, because of Kali's interference. It still baffled him why Kali had gotten involved, and he could only be thankful that she had left Lenore be.

"You should think about letting go," Odin suggested in a mild tone. "Leave her to her fate. You can always join us again, up here." He paused and glanced briefly at Gabriel. "Sigyn misses you, you know. She misses what was once hers."

"Odin…you've got to be fucking kidding me," Gabriel cried out in an appalled tone. He stood up quickly and Geri and Freki woke up to growl in response; those wolves were entirely too protective of their master.

He and Sigyn were complicated…she had been a dutiful wife but he had never loved her. Hell, if Odin hadn't forced his hand, then Gabriel never would have married his friend's daughter. Unfortunately, Sigyn didn't feel the same way.

"It is the truth," Odin shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes gleamed in the flickering firelight.

"Listen, I've heard you say it a million times – regardless of how fascinating Lenore is, I should be with someone like my own kind, more or less. But I'm not interested. I _love_her. I would do anything for her," Gabriel spoke passionately, his right hand pressed over his heart. He hated the two-face'd persona of Odin; he knew Lenore liked Odin but that was because the scoundrel was charming when he needed to be. It pained him that Odin had some weird bias against her.

It would pain him less if he didn't care what Odin thought, but Odin had been the one to help him hide from Heaven and Gabriel couldn't sever their bond – hell, he wasn't even sure if he could at this point.

"Fine," Odin said with a growing smile. "You love her. You would do anything for her." His head tilted to the side as he gave Gabriel a curious look. "Perhaps you are right to hold onto that. Few in life get to find their soul mate," he mused.

Tired of Odin's talk, Gabriel snapped his fingers and appeared at the other end of Asgard, at the great tree _Yggdrasil_. He took in a deep breath when he saw the quiet god Heimdallr guarding the tree, and pasted on a smile. Now it was back to being Loki, as everyone knew him.

Or rather, as everyone but Lenore and Odin knew him.

* * *

**A/N**

_References_:  
*Then, he had been too scared to make her his and tempt Fate. But now, she was his and he would fight against all three of those stuck-up sisters if he had to.—featured in the "My Heart Will Go On" season 6 episode of Supernatural were one of the three sisters of Fate.  
+ lots of references to other chapters. I know it's been a while so I wanted to insert quite a bit to help prepare y'all for later events :)


	39. Not Quite a God

**Not Quite a God**

Fanart by the amazingly talented and entirely generous Christytrekkie. This can be found at Fanart, Fear Not the Multiverse on Twisting the Hellmouth. She also created various versions of the banner (SO COOL!) and  
how Lenore looked like at the New Year's Eve ball in Italy and how Lenore looked like at the Valhalla dinner party. YAY! Thank you so much Christy! ps:everyone should check out her work and leave a review! :)

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
May 12, 1912  
_

Lenore let out a scream of frustration as she threw her world map into the fireplace. It hit the fire with a crackle and the flames quickly tore into the parchment; she watched it burn with ambivalence.

For the last week Lenore had been attempting numerous location spells and all manners of scrying, but nothing was working. It was almost, in a way, like how she was never able to find her brother. Fergus had the ability to cloak himself and each time she had looked for him in the past, back when she needed to demand Loki's locket back, her spells hit a brick wall. Now, the same thing was happening.

She knew what this meant, of course. Someone was blocking her.

The question was who. Lenore had discussed the situation at length with Loki, but neither of them were able to discern a likely solution. Her brother, perhaps? But, no. He had no interest in her vampire comrades and harbored no ill will towards her; if anything Fergus knew that Lenore was still angry since she last saw him in 1892 when he refused to turn over Loki's locket.

The hollow sound of a knock against the front door startled Lenore out of her thoughts. She shot it a suspicious look because Loki was visiting Odin and she wasn't expecting guests; to be honest any guests were always Loki's friends or family. Ever since her clan had left her all Lenore had was Loki – although she did count Angel as a friend but he made his own way in the world with little interaction with her.

Lenore made her way to the thick wooden door braced with brass plates, and opened it apprehensively. However, she smiled when she saw her guest.

"Hel! How are you?" Lenore greeted warmly as she ushered Loki's daughter inside. Hel's midnight hair was pulled back into a casual upsweep and she wore an ironically sunny yellow dress – after all, one often doesn't expect the Norse goddess of the Underworld to dress cheerfully. "I like your dress, by the way."

Hel's lips curled up slightly as she took a seat on the couch. She rarely displayed emotion but the goddess had a very funny dark sense of humor. "It was a present from Father. He demanded that I wear it at least once."

"Loki does have good taste in clothes, for a male," Lenore chuckled as she closed the door and took a seat across from Hel.

"For others, yes. For himself, seldom," Hel smirked. "His fur coats can be rather boorish."

Lenore laughed. "I think it's a rather nice lumberjack-mountain man style."

Hel shook her head in amusement.

"Can I get you something to drink or eat, Hel?"

"No, Lenore, I'm fine at the moment. I just came by to look for Father." Hel glanced around the dwelling and then she turned back to Lenore. "Is he here?"

"No, Odin invited him to Asgard for a night of drinking," Lenore replied with a wry grin. She had not been pleased to have Loki leave, because she needed his help in scrying for Eli, but the bond between the two gods was strong. Multiple times she had noticed that when Odin demanded that Loki do something, he did. Frankly, she didn't quite understand it – Loki was far more, albeit secretly, powerful – but she knew that Odin was responsible for hiding Loki when he first left Heaven. She supposed there was some sort of loyalty there that she did not understand, and that maybe she never would.

"Ah." Hel sat back with a dejected expression.

"Is everything okay?" Lenore asked in concern.

Hel gave her a weary look. "I just wanted to speak to him. The anniversary of Jörmungandr's death approaches and I've been besieged by dreams as of late."

Loki never mentioned his deceased children – Jörmungandr by the hand of Heracles, Narfi at the bespelled hands of Váli, and Váli by his own hand. Lenore had not been aware that Jörmungandr's death had occurred around this time.

"Well, you can talk to me, you know," Lenore offered. There was something about the haunted look in the goddesses' eyes that made Lenore want to comfort her. They were not great friends but they had gotten fairly close in the last year and a half.

"No, Lenore, that is okay," Hel said with a forced smile. She pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear. "I know my Father has probably not spoken of his past very much and I don't want to give you such a burden.

"Hel, really, it's okay," Lenore comforted as she laid her hand over the goddess'. "What's troubling you?"

"I don't think you would find them comforting," Hel warned in a guarded tone.

"Try me," Lenore prodded softly.

Hel sighed. "I keep dreaming of my family as it once was, before Jörmungandr's death and my mother's suicide." She smiled slightly. "My parents were so in love and regardless of our deformities; they showered us love as well."

Lenore nodded and pushed her own emotions down. She had rarely heard about Loki's first wife, Angrboda, but knew the giantess had killed herself after her son Jörmungandr's murder. After that, Odin had arranged a marriage between Loki and his daughter Sigyn. However, she had heard that while the marriage to Sigyn was loveless, the marriage to Angrboda had not been. While all of this occurred centuries and centuries ago, it still did make Lenore feel uncomfortable.

Regardless, that was neither here nor there. This was about Hel.

"I cannot imagine what you must be going through with the loss of your brother," Lenore commented softly. Her thoughts drifted to Fergus and Lenore supposed she didn't have it much better. While her brother may be 'alive' in a sense they had not seen each in twenty years and she doubted they would ever become close again – unless she decided again to immerse herself in wicked ways.

Hel's dark eyes shined under the warm glow of the fireplace as her shoulders tensed. "I am the goddess of the afterlife but my role was only in guiding the souls of our Nordic worshipers. My power has waned under the zealous Christian missionaries, but even at my full strength I could not reclaim any of my brother's souls." She sighed. "They are lost in Purgatory."

Lenore glanced at her in surprise. "I thought that was just for demons?" And for her.

As Hel shook her head a strand of black hair fell gracefully from her up-do. "For any supernatural creature, including the gods. It's why we fear death so much."

Lenore nodded distractedly. She didn't plan on dying by any means but she knew that it would likely happen one day – after all, she was rather unlucky when it came to attracting evil attention. What worried her about death was not only to be rejected by Heaven but to be forever sundered by Gabriel. But now…if Purgatory was for all supernatural creatures – perhaps even angels – she wondered if perhaps they would be reunited again.

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
May 19, 1912  
_

As day wore on, Lenore found herself blinking back sleep as she sat at her desk and perused spell books. Almost two weeks had passed and she still had been unable to find Eli using a location spell. Heck, even her sources were coming up empty. Depression was beginning to settle over her like a thick fog and she was feeling hopeless. If she couldn't find Eli then he would die. No matter the schism that formed after the battle against Bilquis, Eli would always be her friend. More so, she despised the idea of never seeing him again before hearing his forgiveness.

And, to be frank, Lenore had come to a stark revelation after the vision of Eli's death – she was lonely. Oh sure, Loki and Hel and the others were great. Loki was even better than great! But no matter how much love she had for him and the warmth she felt towards his family, they were still _his_family. Not hers. Her family was her vampire clan and fifty-two years of separation had hollowed out a part of her heart that begged to be filled.

"Hey babe!" Loki called out cheerfully.

Lenore looked up from her books to see he had entered the study with a wide grin. He was dressed in brown breeches and a brightly colored shirt that clashed with the leopard fur cape he wore across his shoulders. Honestly, she thought with a smirk, it was like he was born for Vegas.

"Hi Loki," Lenore answered back with a weak smile. She was exhausted and didn't know if she could handle Loki's energy at the moment.

"Good news," Loki grinned as he walked over to brush his lips across hers. "Láilá just gave birth to a litter of pups!"

"Really?" Lenore responded with enthusiasm. Láilá was the female alpha of this generation of wolves and this was the first time she had been pregnant. Traditionally Loki and Lenore visited the pack and Loki blessed the pups and healed mother if the birth had given her any great trouble. Although Lenore was tired and stressed she couldn't help but be excited now – she always loved spending time with the pack.

Jumping from her chair, Lenore grabbed Loki's hand. "Let's go," she grinned.

A joyful smile lit up Loki's face. "To see you smile like that, I'd go anywhere you wanted," he promised sincerely. Although his tone was light she could hear the deep seriousness of his promise and it made her blush.

"Love you," Lenore whispered before leaning forward to kiss Loki. She had been so busy these last couple weeks that they hadn't spent much time together and she suddenly regretted that. His scent of evergreen trees and woods made her stomach curl and she delighted in the feel of his lips on hers. She lightly ran her tongue over his lips and she sighed as the kiss deepened.

"You know," Loki said between deep breaths. "We don't have to see the pack right now…"

Lenore laughed and nibbled his earlobe playfully. "Later. We can't ruin a tradition just for the sake of our hormones," she said in a husky voice.

"Or," Loki piped up with a mischievous smile, "We could start a new tradition. Like, the alpha wolf has her first litter, we have lots and lots of sex, and then I bless the new 'lil pups."

"You are ridiculous," Lenore giggled with a roll of her eyes. She began to lead him by the hand. "C'mon. Tradition now, sex later."

"As you wish, my lady," Loki smiled as they began their walk into the woods.

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
June 19, 1912  
_

The darkness that surrounded Lenore was soothing. With her eyes closed as she sat cross-legged on the forest floor, her hearing was enhanced. The rustle of leaves crackling back and forth in the wintry night provided for a base to the symphony song of the outdoors. Wolves racing, their feet striking the rain-soaked earth in unison, sent out vibrations through the ground that raced up her spine. A raven's call echoed through the night. There were other sounds of life teeming through the forest and Lenore opened her mind up to them as she meditated.

Life passed like this for many hours as she sought to concentrate on the world around her, instead of the world within her. Namely, her bloodlust.

It had been four weeks since she last fed; the longest she had gone without was one week. Suffice it to say, this trial had proven arduous.

It wasn't that she _couldn't _feed. If she so desired, Lenore could. But this was a test. Her efforts at Eli consistently failed and a 'fast' of blood was the only option she could think of. Fasting was a proven method for both the religious and magical communities and Lenore prayed that God would grant her a shred of mercy if she proved herself.

Right now she was at her breaking point. One side of her thought she should ignore the sounds of the very tempting blood-filled forest animals, but she knew she needed to incorporate all of the world in this process or else she would snap at the next blood-filled creature that walked by.

Already she had to cut Loki off of any intimacy – even though he _was _an angel/trickster god he was still filled with something pumping through his veins (although she wasn't quite sure what) and even that was tempting to her now. He, of course, professed that she could never overpower him and he could protect himself, and please oh please couldn't they have sex.

He is positively insatiable, Lenore thought with a grin.

Something struck her mind, a new presence that loomed over the forest. Startled, Lenore raised her head to see the stars blocked from the night sky. Squinting overhead, she saw…Santa Claus?

Stifling a giggle – one that was slightly nervous because new beings in her and Loki's home did not always bode well for them – she stood up for a clearer look. There were eight four-legged creatures flying overhead. They looked like…reindeer….or horses? And each horse bore a rider.

And they were sailing over to the foot of Loki's mountain.

Unsure of what to expect, Lenore raced through the forest. As she passed through the forests she heard the crunch of dirt as the heavy creatures landed in unison. Only a moment passed before the wolf pack let out their warning howl to Loki that other supernatural creatures were in the vicinity.

Stepping into the clearing, Lenore realized that Odin, atop his mighty steed (and Loki's son) Sleipnir, was the person leading the group of eight. Upon a closer look she saw his two wolves, Geri and Freki, stood on either side of him. The other people were unfamiliar…well most of them, anyway. She instantly recognized the strong jaw and handsome features of Baldur, the god she had met almost two years ago at Odin's Yule blót.

Apprehension filled her stomach and she prayed that Baldur wasn't here to start trouble. She and Loki were happy and adjusting fairly well to the fact that Loki's three children (Hel, Sleipnir, and Fenrir) and Odin visited so often. They were more or less a dysfunctional family…she didn't want Baldur to start trouble. The two of them had 'made-up' at Odin's blót and they had not heard from Baldur since – which was just fine with them.

The door to their mountain home creaked open and Loki's silhouette filled the doorway. "Odin," he greeted after a moment of surveying the sudden party on his front lawn. "What brings you?"

Lenore hung back amongst the trees, hidden in shadow. She knew she should be a good hostess and greet them all, but she also knew she was a hair away from burying her teeth into warm flesh. It did not help that there was a stray thought flying around her head that these enchanted flying horses would likely be _especially _tasty.

Uhh, but not Sleipnir. Nope, definitely not Loki's son…

"It has been decades since the last Wild Hunt, Loki. I thought it was time to take it up again, near the Summer Solstice, and I invite you and Lenore to join me," Odin stated. His hulking frame was covered with a cloak made from a grizzly bear and his long grey beard billowed gently in the wind.

The Wild Hunt? Lenore was unfamiliar with the term but was quite sure it couldn't be good – not if it was a pastime for pagan gods.

Loki's eyes flitted towards Lenore, finding her easily in the shadows of the trees, before settling back on Odin. "Er, now's not a good time, Odin. We're a bit busy. Maybe another time?"

Odin's back was to Lenore but she could see his back stiffen. "I do not like to be turned down, Loki," he replied in a darkly disappointed tone.

"Yes Loki, come show off your skills," Baldur called from atop his horse. His handsome face produced a cruel smile. "Of course, we all know the Wild Hunt is not for cowards," he added snarkily.

In the fireplace light spilling out of the doorway, Lenore saw Loki's expression harden as he sneered at Baldur. "I must say I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you afraid you'll break a nail, God of Love?"

Growling, Baldur hopped off his horse, falling ankle deep into the snow. Odin whirled around, his single eye glaring at his son as he held up a hand. "Do not be quarrelsome, my son."

Baldur just glowered before finally climbing atop his steed.

Odin turned back to Loki. "I never take no for an answer, Loki. I have always looked forward to seeing Lenore in battle, after all the stories I've heard of her."

Lenore slunk further back into the shadows. She wasn't an idiot – whatever it was they hunted, they certainly went about killing _something_on the Wild Hunt. Be it human or demon, Lenore had to abstain or else she risked losing herself again, as she had began almost fifty years ago with her unleashed bloodlust and then just ceased only twenty-six years ago.

Not to mention she had killed Déshèng only a few months ago…that quenching of life had been powerful, but it had disgusted her instead of thrilling her as death once had. Under no circumstances could she go with Odin and enter that lifestyle again.

"You know Lenore's living a peaceful life now," Loki said diplomatically. "The Wild Hunt isn't for her."

Something crackled in the air…tension, power…a rough mixture of both, Lenore decided as she watched Odin's spine straighten. "This is not a request, my blood brother," Odin rumbled. I desire the company of you and your consort."

Loki's head cocked to the side as he examined Odin. His amber eyes lit up with a sudden ferocity as he answered Odin. "Ask of me what you will, but Lenore is not beholden to you."

Odin answered in a calculated, hushed, tone. "She is yours. What is yours is mine. Or have you forgotten what you pledged so long ago when I let you into our pantheon?"

Fear and worry struck Lenore's heart as she heard the threat in Odin's voice. She knew that her lover had run away from Heaven and disguised himself as a pagan god; Loki had joined Odin's pantheon, after the latter had sworn the former as his blood brother in front of all the gods. Now she wondered what the extent of Loki's pledge had been, and if Odin's words were true. A shiver of trepidation ran through her and Lenore debated on entering the discussion.

The bloodlust coursing through her body made Lenore more apt to make hasty decisions, so a split second later she was stepping forward into the clearing.

"Odin," Lenore greeted as she approached them. Her voice was crisp and cold as the winter wind that rustled through the nearby woods. "Was that a threat against my lover that I heard you made?" She asked the question innocently but her voice carried a note of anger.

Inwardly, Lenore knew she needed to control herself and understood that she was putting herself in a bad situation, but that knowledge failed to control her tongue.

Odin's face lit up at the sight of her, although there was something about his eye that appeared off, a type of look she had never witnessed before. To be frank, tonight's ordeal was already decidedly odd because Odin had never taken such an authoritative role with them before.

_Well, except for that one time when he interrupted their time together and ordered Loki to come to his blot..._

"Lenore, how are you my dear?" Odin's dark eye examined her, and he began to frown. "You look quite unnourished my dear. Haven't you been feeding?"

Lenore knew that her skin was tightening closer to her bones and her face appeared gaunt, but she had forgotten that until Odin pointed it out. "I am fasting, Odin."

"Why?" Odin asked in puzzlement.

"For a spell," Lenore answered. She would not answer him further – whatever was shifting in regards to his attitude towards them, she did not desire to give him further ammunition.

Odin paused and gave her a thoughtful look. "That is rather uncommon for a vampire. I am surprised you have lasted," he remarked.

Lenore shrugged. She could try to explain herself but she doubted a being like Odin would even understand anyways. "Yes, well as you can see I am unable to attend your Wild Hunt." Her eyes flashed as part of her self-control was lost. "And I would greatly prefer it if you did not treat me like Loki's property, ordering him to let me attend your gathering."

Odin, for his part, reacted as if her were embarrassed. Gone was his steely expression that he had given Loki earlier; now he gazed at her like an indulgent grandparent. "My apologies, Lenore. At my age I can be rather impatient. I was merely hoping you would join us on our hunt."

"She doesn't hunt anymore, Odin, so leave her be," Loki warned. He approached Lenore and wrapped her against his body; his body heat warmed her greatly.

Scoffing, Odin rolled his eye and turned to Lenore. "It must be frustrating to have Loki answer for you all of the time, my dear."

Pressing her cheek against Loki's shoulder, Lenore responded. "He's right, Odin. I gave up that life."

Odin stared at them, his eye alternating between Loki and Lenore, before finally he shrugged. "Perhaps another time."

"Doubtful," Loki answered.

The Norse god smiled then, a thin and secretive smile. "Farewell, you two. I shall see you at the Solstice celebration tomorrow, yes?"

Loki nodded and Odin released a wider smile before he returned to Sleipnir and ordered his group back to the skies. Once they were gone Lenore turned to Loki with a bewildered expression. "What was that about?"

Loki sighed and led Lenore back inside their home. "Odin enjoys attempts at controlling people," was all he said after a lengthy pause.

"What does that mean?" Lenore prodded.

Turning to her with a melancholy look, Loki shrugged as he began walking back towards their dwelling. "He and I…we're complicated. The Solstice is a difficult time of the year for him and me."

Turning her head to the side, Lenore gave him a closer look as she followed him. "What happened?"

Sighing, Loki leaned against the door frame to their home. Amber eyes glanced everywhere but her face. "It's a deeply held secret. None of the other gods know."

Her fingers trailed down the side of his face and stopped under his chin. Lenore understood secrets and knew that Loki could not discuss his angelic past due to various oaths and bindings, but she couldn't understand why he did not feel comfortable discussing a pagan god secret. "Tell me. I know so many secrets about the gods already, what does one about Odin matter?"

Loki let out a hollow laugh and met her eyes with a guilty look. "Because Odin's not quite a god."

* * *

A/N:

Many thanks to the loyal readers out there who have been following this story for so long. I do apologize at the length of wait for updates but as this story gets closer to the end my writer's block keeps stumbling me.

Feedback is welcome. Gracias!


	40. The Song Remains the Same

**The Song Remains the Same**

_Reine, Norway  
June 19, 1912  
_

"Not quite a god?" Lenore repeated in a shocked voice. "Wha…what do you mean?"

Loki cast a suspicious look at the surrounding dark words and ushered Lenore inside before closing the door. Inside their home, regardless of the mildly warm summer temperatures outside, the fireplace flickered with warmth. But Lenore felt anything but warm at the moment.

Rubbing his fingers against his temple, Loki shot her a pained look. "We swore never to tell another entity the story of where the other came from. You have to understand why I did not tell you sooner." Loki snorted in grim amusement. "And perhaps because I was ashamed as well."

"Then why tell me know?" Lenore asked in puzzlement.

"Because Odin tested me tonight and I am unsure how trustworthy he is when it comes to you," Loki answered flatly as he settled into the maroon-upholstered couch.

"Hmm." Lenore raised a singular brow as she settled at the end of the couch and faced her lover. "Are you referencing the 'what is yours is mine' deal?" Those words had sent a terrible feeling through Lenore's spirit and she worried what they meant.

"Yes," Loki sighed with a regretful look.

"Explain," Lenore prompted.

Loki seemed to stare past her as his eyes took on a far-away gleam. "I've known Odin since soon after he was born."

"Born?" Lenore interrupted. "Gods…get born?" Well, obviously – Loki had children and so did many other gods. Lenore supposed she had never given thought to Odin's parentage.

"Where do you think 'gods' come from?" Loki asked with a mild smirk; mild only because he looked too unhappy to actually be amused.

Lenore rolled her eyes. "The birds and the bees?" she asked drolly.

"Not really," Loki chuckled as he caught her gaze. "Some of the gods were manifestations of misguided worship by humans; entities brought into being through sheer will. A few were celestial beings who lost their way. Others were supernatural beings who decided to play god – or were mistaken to be gods by the humans."

"And which is Odin?"

"The latter."

Lenore prompted him with a look. "What kind of supernatural creature?"

"One of the Nephilim."

Lenore was two-hundred and forty years old. During her lifetime she had spent a great deal of time reading and thought she knew about most supernatural creatures, especially demons and pagan gods. But… "What's a Nephilim?"

Loki visibly winced. "A child born from a human woman and an angel."

She gasped so loudly that she began choking. "What? How?"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Loki's eyes took on that faraway look. "There were a group of angels named the Grigori, or the Watchers in our language. God first placed them here to watch over the humans…but they became too close to their charges. They taught them weaponry, metalsmiths, and more. Worst of all, they fell in love with mortal women and produced sons and daughters – the Nephilim."

Shaking his head, Loki continued. "They were abominations, of course. The Nephilim were immense giants whose shadows covered the lands in darkness. The greatest betrayal since Lucifer." He glanced at her with a haunted look. "And on the Summer Solstice, as Daddy's favorite little warrior, I got to smite them all," he said sarcastically before his voice took on a more painful tone. "My brothers. The humans. The…the children."

"My brothers fought back, of course. This was before Lucifer was locked up and a few, like Azazel, joined his forces and escaped. They became twisted creatures of darkness and lost their heavenly powers."

Gabriel's voice cracked and he suddenly looked older than Lenore had ever seen him, as if his 'Loki' mask was slipping and she could see the immortal archangel beneath it all.

"Anyways, I found the youngest sons, the childred of Azazel, in the reeds of the Nile River. Odin was the eldest and with him were the twins Vili and Vé. They were…so small." Loki's voice died and then he let out a bark of humorless laughter.

"Oh Lenore, if only you understood the God that you worshiped," Loki whispered bitterly, his voice raw with emotion. He shook his head and Lenore didn't know what to say to that, so she opted to say nothing.

"I couldn't do it. Father help me, but I couldn't. I hid the boys in these mountains and the wolves raised them– Geri and Freki's ancestors, actually," Loki snorted.

"Years passed and the moment came after Lucifer was caged and Father disappeared that I decided to leave. But I couldn't just _leave_, you know?" Loki told her in a pleading tone that begged to be understood. "They would never stop looking for me. To abandon Heaven would be a sin as bad as Lucifer's. So, I faked my death. And then I found Odin."

"And Odin welcomed you?" Lenore inquired.

"Sort of," Loki replied with a lopsided smile. "He actually hated me for killing his mother – and, well, he thinks I killed his father but doesn't realize that Azazel is down in the bowels of hell, probably suffering endless torment." He shrugged. "Same thing, I 'spose. I just thought it was better to not let him know in case he ever decided to do something crazy.

"Anyways, after some heavy discussion we worked out something. See, centuries had passed and Odin's power had grown so much that he had already created companions – gods, he called them – with the support of the Nordic people who worshiped him and he had established a pretty nice place in Asgard. So Odin absorbed me into the world he created and I have been hiding here every since." Loki shrugged. "Pretty long story."

Eyes widening, Lenore shook her head. "Yeah, it is." She observed the sadness that seemed to emanate from Loki's pores. "But why is everything of yours, his?" she asked cautiously.

"Part of the blood oath," Loki answered. "I have certain obligations to him, especially when it comes to attending his rituals when invited because my power lends to his. But you?" Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are not part of the deal. If Odin even thinks he can control you or hurt you I'll kill him, even if it means my own death."

"Your own death?" Lenore exclaimed in a hushed tone.

Loki had the decency to appear bashful at his slip of the tongue. "Er, well…after the blood binding we're so closely tied that I'm honestly not sure if I could kill him without ending my own life."

"Well then don't you dare kill him!" Lenore ordered fearfully. She knew Loki was apt to make impulsive decisions and if he ever decided to do something, he did it. With her lack of blood over the four weeks, hell, even she was feeling the impulsive desire to do something crazy.

There were few times throughout their relationship where Loki was actually serious, so the startling blank look on his face coupled with his words was almost chilling. "I will do anything I need to do in order to keep you safe, Lenore. No matter what."

"Loki," Lenore whispered in a small voice. She shook her head. "Don't talk like that. Please."

Loki's expression faded to the more genial one that she was used to. He scooted to her side of the couch and embraced her. "Don't worry babe. I'll go to the Solstice tomorrow because I have to but you can stare here."

As Lenore clung to her love she couldn't help but feel a trickle of trepidation move through her. Somehow she didn't think that Odin would approve of that…

Later that night she moved silently through the words with a velvet pouch strung across her chest like a purse. Listlessly she fingered the contents of the bag and maintained a silent prayer that her spell would work. Once she reached a meadow inside the woods she began a fire by gathering fallen branches and lighting them with her magic. As the fire roared to life she began assembling her spell.

For a month she had fasted. Her intention had been to fast longer but Lenore felt that she needed to regain her strength in case Odin pulled any tricks – if he liked to make Loki's life difficult around the anniversary of his parents' death then she wanted to be ready just in case.

Pouring the contents of the pouch into the fire, Lenore began chanting in a low voice that slowly grew with power. Her vision spotted and the world tilted – because of her lack of nourishment or the spell, she did not know. Once the final chant left her lips the fire flared. It appeared to jump out and consume the tattered world map that Lenore held in her fingers before it quickly leapt to her body. Before Lenore could yell out in pain she realized that the fire was not real although a heat rose up within her body. Black dots spotted her vision and suddenly the dots expanded until there was nothing but darkness.

Lenore gasped as a light slowly grew within the blackness and she saw Eli and the others again. It was the same vision but this time she saw who was shooting arrows at her friend.

Odin, and the members of his Wild Hunt.

* * *

_Reine, Norway  
June 20, 1912  
_

Lenore's mind was on her vision the next day as Loki began to get prepared for the Solstice celebrations. Her vision had clearly shown her that Eli was still alive, which was good. Unfortunately, the responsible party was a secret-Nephilim-Norse-God and his hunting party.

Her spell had worked in a sense – it was a location spell for Eli – but she recognized now that whatever was blocking her from knowing Eli's location prevented an actual map. Instead, her magic showed her a different way of finding Eli – through Odin.

Needless to say, Loki was not terribly pleased that she wanted to accompany him.

"Loki, I've already fed on an entire moose! I am more than strong enough to deal with a Nephilim," Lenore shot back.

A panicked look came into Loki's eyes as he brushed a finger against his lips. "Shh, Lenore. I am so serious. You can never mention this. It is possible that if Odin discovers my broken vow he can break our blood bond – and then I would no longer be Loki."

Lips pressed together in deep thought, Lenore gave him a curious look. "Would that really be so bad? Don't you want to be Gabriel again? Someday?"

Loki stepped away from her with an angry expression. "Lenore, haven't you _heard_ a single thing I've told you about my past?" he snarled suddenly. "I cannot and _will not_go back to Heaven. Loki is who I am now."

Taken aback from his reaction, Lenore crossed her arms and shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

Amber orbs met her eyes with caution. "I know." Loki sighed. "It's okay. I'm…I'm sorry I reacted like that. It's just, I can't have my bond broken. Please."

Lenore walked forward and wrapped her arms around his midsection. "Okay," she whispered. "I won't say anything." She pulled back and gave him a stern look. "But I _am_going. I don't want Odin to think I scare easily."

Lenore's expression was identical to Willow's 'Resolve Face'. Loki did not argue further.

It was a good thing he did not know she planned on going on the Wild Hunt to find Eli and be exposed to violence, or else he probably would have attempted to argue further.

Lenore stayed indoors during the Solstice events at Asgard. Although she did not burn like her demonically-possessed vampire brethren, she was still quite sensitive to it. Fortunately, that allowed her to avoid Odin – if she were to spot him she was unsure if she could control her temper.

Thank God she had gorged herself on moose blood. If she had arrived at Asgard without blood in her system after four weeks there probably would have been a massacre, starting with Odin, Baldur, and Sigyn.

Sigyn she had spotted earlier across the room. They had shared a chilly glance but fortunately no words. Lenore had no love for Loki's former wife and after Lenore humiliated her at Odin's blót, she knew the goddess abhorred her. Lenore would have to watch her step around her.

Around dusk Lenore's moment arrived.

"Tonight, in celebration of the day of the longest sun, the Wild Hunt shall ride again!" Odin called out joyfully, his single eye alight with anticipation.

Lenore had spoken with a group of gods earlier – including Thor and his golden-haired wife Sif – about what the Wild Hunt encompassed. Essentially the Wild Hunt was formed of Odin, several gods, and the souls of a dozen victorious warrior souls from Valhalla. They would travel across the world during the night in a raucous fashion and slayed any demon in their path.

Knowing that, Lenore now understood why her vision showed Odin killing Eli – they did not realize that Eli and the others were animal drinkers. It was for that reason that Lenore volunteered to accompany Odin, on the basis that she 'would not be forced to kill but to simply observe'. Loki had been outraged and immediately stated he would accompany her. Odin only smiled secretively and welcomed her into the hunting party.

Now Lenore rode a magnificent black steed as they flew across the North American continent. Stops were made in D.C., Cleveland, and New Orleans as they took out nests of demons. Still no sign of Eli…in her vision he was in a jungle and they had yet to travel through one yet…

"So Lenore, what do you think of the Wild Hunt?" Odin called out cheerfully from Sleipnir's back. Baldur rode along his right flank and Loki to his left; closest to Lenore.

"It can be rather gruesome," she admitted. The warrior souls and gods took distinct pleasure in maiming and murdering the demons…not that they shouldn't. Well, probably.

"The foul beasts deserve it," Baldur sniffed. "The demons are an infestation on this earth." His cool brown eyes flickered towards her dispassionately.

"Aye, they make hunting interesting," Odin commented with a toothy smile. His long grey beard flew around his neck and behind him; yet instead of looking comical he still gave off a regal air.

Perhaps, Lenore thought, because he was descended from an angel. That probably gave someone a regal bearing.

They rode through two more cities, but no sign of Eli. Finally Loki rode near to her.

"I don't get it. Why did you want to come?" he questioned.

"To get answers," Lenore whispered. She glanced at his puzzled expression. "I can't speak freely here but once I find what I'm looking for, you'll know."

Lenore, fearing that Odin's unstable behavior last night would lend itself to irrational decisions tonight once she found her friends, was loathe to admit anything just now. She knew that Loki would understand soon.

Several hours later, after dawn had descended over the Norse lands and was now heading quickly towards the Americans, they began flying over South American – Brazil, she suspected since the land included the ocean coastline and masses of trees.

Lenore's eyes widened. She knew what dwelt in these lands. The Amazons.

"One more stop!" Odin said with a mischievous grin – and was it just her or did he wink at her?

The Wild Hunt began to descend into the canopy of the rainforest. The area was alive with sound – the slither of anacondas, the soft breathing of sleeping sloths, the lithe movements of feline predators – and a shiver ran down Lenore's back.

This was it.

The moment she had been searching for. For almost two months.

No, scratch that – for decades.

A dull pain entered her heart and Lenore, not for the first time, felt incredibly lonely. _She missed her family, her clan._To see them after all these years…well it was something she both desperately wanted and feared.

What if Eli still was against her for the strategic error she made when she searched for Drusilla, only to fall into Bilquis' trap?

The wolves, Geri and Freki, began growling and the Wild Hunt members let out a battle cry as Odin's beasts began leading them to their quarry. Suddenly frantic, Lenore wove her horse in-between the dense trees. Several hundred yards away she could hear movement; likely her brethren had heard the descending caravan of hunters and began fleeing.

Warrior cries sounded in the night and Lenore urged her horse to go faster. She debated on saying something now, but what if this was not Eli? What if she blew her chance? What if—

Fleeing shadows came in view, their outlines barely visible under the never-ending leafy canopy. Lenore concentrated and shifted her vision to see auras and sure enough, one of those figures was Eli.

Looking over, Lenore was startled to see arrows already flying through the air.

"NO!" she commanded. Power dripped from her voice and the arrow halted in place, and fell softly to the ground.

Surprised, the shadowy figures ahead turned to stare at her – and she could have sworn her keen ears heard Eli's voice whispering her name.

Looking past Loki's shocked and horrified expression, Lenore turned her gaze to an outraged Odin.

"Lenore!" Odin barked. "What is the meaning of this?" But his eyes…while his voice and body language stated his anger with her, his eyes displayed a different sort of emotion that she couldn't quite pin down.

"You were attacking a member of my clan, Odin. I cannot allow this. I ask you to grant them amnesty," Lenore stated. Her power, long left unused, wrapped protectively around her. No matter how Eli treated her, he was family. She would never let him be murdered if she could help it.

A chorus of laughter sounded throughout the group – except Loki. He looked anything but happy. Lenore was thankful that he was taking her side against Odin – clearly he was just as unhappy as she was about this situation.

"They're _demons_," Baldur stated in a lofty voice with a roll of his eyes. "They deserve death."

"No," Lenore argued. "Not these." She turned towards Eli and, now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she gazed at him. "Do you still keep to the old ways, Eli?" Lenore called out.

Eli nodded slowly; clearly understanding that he was prey and sudden movements may make his life forfeit. "I do. As do my new charges." Behind him were seven other vampires; all of whom appeared terrified.

"That doesn't matter, Lenore," Odin growled. "This is my Wild Hunt. I must have sacrifice."

"Leave her be, Odin," Loki snapped. "We don't have to harm these vampires. Let's release them and all go back. The sun is almost up, anyways. The Hunt is almost complete."

Odin stared at Loki in wonder with wide eyes…and then those wide eyes filled with wicked humor as he began letting out riotous laughter.

Unnerved, Lenore shared a look with Loki. In fact, everyone appeared bewildered except for Baldur, who wore a smug expression.

"Loki," Odin guffawed. "That is _rich_, my friend, coming from you. Aren't you the one who blocked Lenore's spells from even finding her clan?"

Odin's words did not register at first. As the entire jungle became silent Lenore could only stare at Loki in horror as the words echoed in her mind. "Loki?" she asked in a small voice.

Paling, Loki gave her a pained look before directing a malevolent look towards his blood brother. "Odin," Loki growled. "What lies do you seek to sow now?"

A serene expression washed over Odin's face. "Loki, you have no right to order me to leave the vampires alone. You wanted them dead as well. Don't lie." He gave the other heavenly creature a small smile.

"Loki. Please tell me Odin is the one lying," Lenore pleaded.

Her lover turned to her with such a guilt-stricken look that she knew the truth.

"Why?" she gasped, appalled.

"Lenore, please understand!" Loki begged as he rode his steed closer to hers. "I just wanted to protect you! If you were to reunite with your clan you would begin your crusade again and that will only get you killed! You've done so much already, you deserve peace. With me." Amber eyes gazed at her forlornly as he struggled to make her understand.

Clenching her eyes shut, Lenore tried to ward off the pain of betrayal that was threatening to consume her. Why would he…why would he do that?

_For the same reason he didn't want you leaving with Kali hundreds of years ago…he wants you to be safe and sound, his; to not claim your destiny…to control you_.

Lenore's eyes hardened as she received insight into their relationship – and that it was just like every relationship she had with a man. "You know," she whispered coldly. "My father controlled me as a girl. He forced me to marry Connor, who controlled every aspect of my life – how I raised my children, who I talked to, what I did for him. Then Aurelius stole me and forced me to drink blood after forcibly turning me, controlling me. And you…you are just like them," Lenore whispered scathingly.

Loki's mouth parted in surprise as if she had skewered him through the heart with an iron poker. "Lenore, _no_! I swear! That's not it _at all_." His eyes gleamed wetly and he held out a hand to her. "By Thor's Hammer, that was not my intent—"

"—Perhaps not your intent consciously, but the result was all the same," Lenore stated coolly.

The pain…the heartbreak…it threatened to overwhelm her…but she had to finish this conversation.

Had to finish this part of her life. Forever.

"Never contact me again, Loki." Her eyes caught Baldur's smirk. "And if anyone touches one of my clan members again I will carve a mistletoe stake especially for them and take my time running it through their chest," she threatened in a neutral tone. Judging by Baldur's expression, her threat had worked.

Lenore climbed down from the steed and Loki rushed over to grab her hand. "Lenore, _please_," he begged softly.

She yanked her hand from hers. "Stay away from me Loki. Forever."

The walk away from him was painful, but necessary.

She was grateful to be in Eli's brother-like embrace moments later – and even more grateful when the entire Wild Hunt party, including Loki, were gone.

* * *

_**Note perspective change**_

_Asgard, Highest of the Nine Worlds  
June 21, 1912  
_

The great hall _Valaskjalf_was empty save for two entities and the wolf companions Geri and Freki. The eldest creature sipped his honey mead and hummed happily to himself. "To you, my son," Odin rumbled as he led Baldur in a toast. After they took a sip, Odin congratulated the other god. "The vampires were there exactly as your sources stated. Well done, my son."

"Thank you, Father," Baldur said with a deep smile. "I must say, that went better than you expected. Lenore has left Loki and now he has been hurt just as terribly as he did to Mother when he killed me. What great fortune that it did not take much effort to coerce the vampire to go on the Wild Hunt."

Odin chuckled and nodded. Yes, he was extremely pleased with tonight's sacrifice – although not for the reasons his son believed. That, of course, was a valid reason and Frigg would be pleased. However, now he felt a true sense of satisfaction for the revenge that played out tonight.

_"It is the truth," Odin shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes gleamed in the flickering firelight._

"Listen, I've heard you say it a million times – regardless of how fascinating Lenore is, I should be with someone like my own kind, more or less. But I'm not interested. I love her. I would do anything for her," Gabriel spoke passionately, his right hand pressed over his heart.

"Fine," Odin said with a growing smile. "You love her. You would do anything for her." His head tilted to the side as he gave Gabriel a curious look. "Perhaps you are right to hold onto that. Few in life get to find their soul mate," he mused.

His angelic father Azazel, and his human mother Bestla, had been forbidden to love and be with their soul mates. What made Gabriel the Giant Slayer, murderer of all his kin, any better? Now, Odin thought with a smirk, Gabriel would understand exactly what it was like to be torn away from his soul mate.

* * *

**A/N**

I am so pleased to have this chapter out so soon! :) I'm really trying to finish this story up next!

_References_:  
** Nephilim:Vaguely referenced in several Old Testament passages, they are featured more prominently in the Book of Enoch , which is a book of the Bible their main Christian Church turned away from in the 4th century, except the Christian Church of Ethiopia who still use it to this day.

**Azazel: Biblically this name has been used in place of 'Satan' by some theologians of the Middle Ages. However, Azazel in the Book of Enochwas one of the Watchers (Grigori) who "taught men to make knives, swords, shields, and how to devise ornaments and cosmetics."

Azazel in the Supernatural mythology is known as Yellow-Eyed Demonand he is responsible for giving Sam demon blood as a baby and for killing the mother of Dean and Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester. Known for his distinct eye color (all SPN demons have black eyes, except Lilith who has white eyes), YED is the main antagonist until his death at the end of season 2. He even has a 'son' and a daughter'; the daughter is Meg, a notorious demon who has interacted with the Winchesters many times throughout the 6 seasons.

**Regarding Odin's story: Clearly I twisted Biblical scriptures with Norse mythology and then with Supernatural mythology. In chapter 36 Hel briefly spoke of how Loki came to be at Asgard:  
_Hel looked at her sharply, the concaves of her oval, thin face shadowed in the darkness of the night. "No one knows," she replied, her voice lowering an octave. "They say that he appeared to Odin, a refugee himself, and stated that Odin owed him a great favor. Thus Odin gave him a place at his table in Asgard. Although," she mused, "while they are great friends there has always been a tension to their relationship that I have yet to understand."_

**Bestla is, in Norse canon, the name of Odin's mother.


End file.
